Oh, Be My Once In A Lifetime
by wildflower daydreamer
Summary: Jonsa Modern AU (kind of?). Sansa Stark has been called upon to help someone change for the better...in another time. (Story title taken from Lana Del Rey's Love Song lyrics. Chapter names taken from different Lana Del Rey songs.)
1. this is how to disappear

**Chapter 1: this is how to disappear**

_(Chapter title taken from Lana Del Rey's How to Disappear)_

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_Note: Just as a side note, I envision this modern day King's Landing to be like Manhattan._

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Sansa stormed out through the restaurant doors and onto the bustling city sidewalk. _How could she be so embarrassing?_ Sansa thought as she briskly walked down the street. She shouldered past a group of tourists that crowded in front of the historic Sept church. The city was always packed with tourists but she was definitely in no mood for their random stopping in the middle of the sidewalks to stare at famous landmarks. _Burping loudly and throwing her fries at Rickon? She's like a child still_, she thought, replaying her sister Arya's embarrassing display at dinner in her head.

"Excuse you," Sansa snapped as a little old man walked into her path.

King's Landing was Sansa's new home. She felt like she had finally freed herself from her cold, boring hometown of Winterfell. She found her dream job at a marketing firm and an apartment here in the big city, not too far from her big brother Robb but far enough away from Winterfell, her overprotective parents, and annoying sister Arya. To celebrate Sansa settling into her new life and her upcoming 25th birthday, her family flew down to King's Landing for the weekend. They had just arrived that afternoon, checked in to their hotel, and met with Sansa for a quick dinner. However, at dinner, Sansa was already wishing they would just go back north to Winterfell. Between her younger siblings' childishness, her mother's clinginess and fussing about her, and her father's questioning and opinions of the local crime and safety, Sansa's patience was waning. It was Arya flinging a french fry at Rickon's head that caused Sansa to abruptly stand, declare her family as humiliating, and angrily leave. Without realizing, it was Sansa herself that caused more of a scene in the restaurant than anyone else in her family.

While heading in the direction of her apartment building, she became too irritated with the crowds milling about the sights of the oldest part of the city. To get away from it all, she turned up one of the side streets. The buildings were old and a bit run down and ugly, which was probably why the tourists didn't pay the tiny street any mind. Sansa finally slowed her walking now that she was alone and had room to breathe. She began to think of how grateful she was to get away from Winterfell. Her family was well off and had the biggest house in the town, which Sansa had always been proud of while growing up. The Starks were an old family that had always been prominent in Winterfell, for as far back as their family tree went. This made Sansa a very popular girl, she was never short on friends and admirers, and she made sure to choose them all wisely. Her friends and boyfriends were always from well off and respectable families. She couldn't be more opposite from her slightly younger sister. Arya would bring home random poor kids to play and stay for dinner, Sansa thought it wasn't a good look for the family. It wasn't until Robb moved to King's Landing after graduating and the family visiting him there that Sansa started to become embarrassed by her hometown. She instantly fell in love with the bright lights, the liveliness, the night life, and the fashionable locals. She began to see Winterfell and the rest of the north as boring and old-fashioned. She kept her eye out for job openings after she earned her masters degree from Wintertown University and jumped at each opportunity until she succeeded. After getting hired, she found her cute apartment fast and moved within a week, leaving behind a weeping mother and a happy Arya. Sansa's next goal was to have Robb introduce her to his eligible, rich friends at his law firm.

As Sansa wandered up the narrow street, out of the corner of her eye, a colorful glow of light caught her attention. The effect was somehow both bright but also subtle. It consisted of colors Sansa had never seen. She stopped and looked up at the 3rd story window she thought it had come from but it was gone. She stood and stared at the somewhat dilapidated building, wishing for the glow to come back. She didn't know how to quite describe the effect it had on her but she was filled with curiosity and wonder. After a few minutes of standing completely still and minimal blinking, she was just about to give up and continue on her way home, but that colorful glow flashed brightly again. Before she knew it, Sansa's feet began carrying her across the street towards the building's entry door. She gave the battered wooden door a knock and was taken aback when the door slightly creaked open with her knock.

"Hello?" she called into the emptiness.

It definitely seemed like an abandoned building, the first floor lobby was devoid of furniture and the only light was from the setting sun coming in through the thick-paned windows. She spotted the wooden staircase and while normally Sansa would never explore a rickety, dark, run-down building, it felt like something was pulling her and her interest up the stairs. Each step creaked and groaned as she climbed them and she wondered why she felt no fear in such a creepy place. She reached the 2nd floor landing, equally as empty as the lobby, with closed doors along the walls. Tarnished brass numbers graced each door. Sansa guessed this had been an old hotel as she climbed the next flight of stairs. The silence in between the creaks of the wooden floorboards was definitely eerie but yet she continued on. When she reached the 3rd floor, each door was closed except one. The door with the number 304 was just barely cracked open and that colorful glow seeped out of it. As soon as Sansa's hand pushed the door open, the glow disappeared and she peered into the darkening room. _Where the hell is it coming from?_ she wondered as her eyes slowly scanned the area. But the room was completely empty and Sansa let out a disappointed sigh.

"Hello, child," a soothingly deep woman's voice broke the silence. Sansa's head quickly turned towards the voice. There, standing by the small fireplace Sansa knew she already looked at, she found a woman with dark burgundy hair and an odd dress that matched in color. Her pale skin seemed to be lit from within. And there was an elaborate choker around her neck with a large red gem that gave off a soft glow. This woman was beautiful yet seemed quite fearsome to Sansa. "Do not be afraid." The woman's voice eased Sansa's sudden nerves. The stranger bent over the fireplace and Sansa swore she heard a very soft whisper just before the flames came to life and offered more light into the room. "Come on in," the woman said, with an arm outstretched towards Sansa.

"I'm - I'm sorry to disturb you. I just saw - saw something that I felt the need to check out," Sansa quietly said as she stepped closer to the woman by the fire. "I didn't think anyone would be in here."

"You're not disturbing anyone, child. May I ask your name?"

"Sansa," she answered, slightly uneasily.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Sansa. My name is Melisandre. Now, what did you see that piqued your interest?"

"Some lights glowing. They were colorful and looked out of place on this street."

The strange woman gave her a soft smile. "These ones?" she asked as she gestured toward the fire. Iridescent colored flames subtly joined the red and orange fire. Sansa couldn't take her eyes off of it as it began to spark. A few of those sparks flew into the air just before her and she watched them grow into small orbs that could fit in the palm of her hand. Each was a different color; a red, a blue, a purple, and a yellow. Each of them were shades Sansa couldn't ever remember seeing in her life. As if in a trance, she slowly reached out a hand towards the closest one.

"I wouldn't touch them yet, child," the red woman calmly said.

Sansa quickly drew her hand away. "You keep calling me 'child'. I'm not a child," she said irritably.

"My apologies, Sansa. To me, you are still quite young."

Sansa gave her a quizzical look and turned her attention back to the small spheres. "What are they?"

"Well, I guess we could say they each represent a person. Everybody in this world has an orb. I'm not entirely sure as to who these four belong to, they are just examples the Lord of Light has decided to show you."

Sansa's eyes flitted towards the red woman. _Lord of Light?_ she thought uncomfortably. _I should leave._ Yet her feet would not move and her eyes darted back to the beautiful glow in front of her.

"This makes you uneasy." Melisandre stated softly.

"Shouldn't it?" Sansa asked, unable to look away again.

"I do not blame you. The Lord of Light isn't well known these days." She slowly came to Sansa's side, as not to scare her away.

"Is this all a trick?" Sansa asked.

"No, Sansa."

"So you're telling me these are like people's souls?" Sansa asked with doubt.

"It shows the health of a person's soul. The brighter the color is, the healthier it is."

"The health of a soul?" Sansa asked. She hated herself for being genuinely intrigued by this and listening to this lady's madness.

"A person's goodness, their pureness, their happiness. These, you can see, are quite bright and full of color."

"The strangest but the most beautiful colors I've ever seen," Sansa muttered.

With a gentle flick of Melisandre's hand, the orbs flew back into the fireplace and blended into the flames. A dull spark flew out of the fire. Sansa didn't understand how a spark of flames could look so dull and dingy. The spark grew in front of her until it was another small orb. The color, if you could even call it that, looked like dirty dishwater.

"This is a rather unhealthy one," Melisandre said. "This is the one you're going to help."

"Excuse me?" Sansa snapped towards her.

"You were called here tonight for this reason, Sansa. You were meant to help this person."

"This is crazy," Sansa stated. But, somewhere inside her, something told her it wasn't.

"It may seem so. However, it explains why you're here. People who aren't meant to be here wouldn't see the glow, they would walk right on by this building without a second thought. But you saw it. And something pulled you in here, something eased your fears. That something is the Lord of Light and he has called you to help this particular person."

"How would I help this person?" Sansa asked. _How can I possibly be entertaining this mad idea?_ she angrily thought.

"You would be sent to her. You could befriend her and gain her trust. You would try your best to help change her attitude for the better."

"'Sent to her'? I don't have time for this, my family is in town this weekend, I can't just ditch them," Sansa stated. _Though I would like to_, she finished in her mind.

"Yes, 'sent'. She is not here, at this time. And no matter how long it takes to help her, only mere moments would pass here. No one would be the wiser that you've been gone."

"Okay, now you're not making any sense. And that's saying something considering everything else you've said."

"No, I'm sure this wouldn't make sense to you. But it's all true and you were destined to do this. I am willing to guess that something within you is telling you to do this. All I need is your permission."

_Are you truly considering participating in this madness?_ her inner voice yelled within her. But as she stared into the ugly, dull light, her doubts faded away and all she could feel was the need to help.

"Her name is Margaery Tyrell. She's about your age. Margaery is power hungry and a bit vain. She aims to marry the son from a powerful family, even though she despises that family. If they are to marry, the Lord has seen that it will eventually lead to the deaths of them and many innocent people. The Lord needs you to steer Margaery away from this marriage she hopes for and, in the process, help her be a better person."

"That seems - intense and long."

"Don't worry about the length of the process, dear. Will you help Margaery?"

"Yes." Sansa surprised herself as the word flew out of her mouth. Melisandre gave her a small, kind smile. "Can you show me my own orb?" Sansa was curious to see the color of hers. Would it be an emerald green for her favorite color? Or the light crystal blue of her eyes? Maybe like the red of her hair or a porcelain white like her skin?

"The Lord of Light only shows the orbs we need to see in the moment."

"Oh, that sucks. So. What's the next step?"

"I shall send you to my counterpart, in the time of Margaery. She will give you more information on where to find Margaery and she will also give you clothes to fit in."

"I'm sorry, 'time'? What does that mean."

"It will make sense eventually. Let us get you on your way. All you need do it reach out and touch the orb and close your eyes. When you open them, you'll be there."

Sansa looked towards the woman and gave her a skeptical look with one cocked eyebrow. But as she did that, her hand reached up towards the orb as if of it's own mind and touched the dull sphere floating before her face. Sansa turned her head back as she felt it pulsating against her fingertips. And with that, she finally gave in and closed her eyes.

Melisandre watched as Sansa disappeared from view along with the orb. With another flick of her hand, another spark flew out of the fire and hovered before her. Sansa's orb, just as dingy and dull as Margaery's. Melisandre could only hope Sansa's would change just as well during this task. _The Lord of Light knows what he is doing_, she thought as she sent the dim glow back into the fire. The light the gem in her necklace was emitting began to die out, just as the fire did. When both were extinguished, the room was completely empty again, as if no one had ever been there.


	2. there she was, my new best friend

**Chapter 2: there she was, my new best friend**

_(Chapter title taken from Lana Del Rey's This is What Makes Us Girls)_

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Sansa felt a tingling sensation run through the length of her body and her eyes shot open. The strange woman in red still stood next to the fireplace with a small smile formed on her lips. However, daylight was now streaming in through the dusty windows, illuminating the same empty room she saw just a moment before when it was dark.

"Welcome, Sansa," Melisandre spoke softly.

"What's happening? How is it daytime?" Sansa asked, walking to the windows and peering out.

"You've arrived. You're still in King's Landing but in Margaery's time. It is April 7, 1884." Sansa narrowed her eyes at the woman but Melisandre continued on as if this was all normal and gestured towards the bathroom door. "I have clothes for you. You may change and keep all of your personal belongings here, including any technology. Technology from your time will not work here."

"You're saying I time traveled?" Sansa asked skeptically.

"In a simple manner of speaking, yes," Melisandre stated, placing a gentle hand on Sansa's back and giving her a slight nudge towards the bathroom.

Sansa picked up the very uncomfortable looking bodice that sat on the bathroom counter. There were unfamiliar looking undergarments, a feminine waistcoat, and a long skirt. Sansa took her cell phone out of her back pocket and saw it was turned off. She tried the power button but it still did not come back to life. With a resigned sigh, she began to undress and figure out the assembly of her new outfit.

"Don't forget the bustle, child," Melisandre called through the closed door. Sansa looked at the wire-looking cage contraption that hung on a hook.

"Yeah, I'm going to need your assistance with this," Sansa said as she reopened the door, standing in her new undergarments and unlaced bodice.

"Pay attention to what I do." Melisandre offered a smile and went to work, tightening the laces, attaching the bustle's belt around her waist, and slipping on the skirt and waistcoat. "Margaery's a fashionable girl so we need you looking equally as much in order for you to gain her respect," she explained. "Where you will be staying, there will be plenty of other girls to help you with your bodice. However, you need to not seem so clueless about this process. You don't want people thinking you are odd and stupid."

"Where I'll be staying? How long am I supposed to be here for? I won't be staying here?" Sansa felt a little panic seep in.

"No, this is not a suitable place for you to be staying to pull off the part you need to play. You have been assigned a room at a hotel for upper class young women. Your wardrobe will be stocked with fashionable clothing. Here is your key. Once you settle in there, you will need to run into Margaery. On Monday afternoons, she frequents a dress shop to pick out a dress each week."

"What do I say? What's my backstory?" Sansa asked as Melisandre brought out bobby pins and began to pin Sansa's loosely curled red hair into a simple enough hairstyle. "I don't know what I'm doing. How am I supposed to do this?"

"It will come to you, child. You are from the North, correct? Winterfell?"

Sansa's lips gave a slight twitch at being called a child again. "Yes. How did you know that?"

"The Lord of Light knows all. He knew you were coming here. That is how I knew what clothes to provide, what boarding to get for you, and the information you need to help Margaery Tyrell. You will say you're from Winterfell, and you do still have your Northern accent."

Sansa's lip twitched again. She didn't want her Northern accent, she wanted to shed all evidence of the North in her life and immerse herself completely in King's Landing. "Do I keep my name too?"

"Yes. Sansa is a Northern name, and the Starks are a powerful, old family that carries respect. Margaery will know about the Starks, so you will claim to be from a lesser Stark line that she would not know much about. You still carry the name so that should be all that matters to her. Tell her you have come to King's Landing to search for better marriage prospects, she will understand that. She wants a man named Joffrey, he is the Governor's son. Remember to steer her away from this prospect. My counterpart in your time has told you this, correct?"

"Yeah. It would end in death or whatever."

"Yes, a lot of death. There is a young soldier named Dickon Tarly. He is a much better man and you need to aim her in that direction. Now, you need to be on your way. Go to your lodgings and settle in, get familiar with your belongings, take notes of how the other girls in the hotel speak and look. At 3:00, head to the Golden Rose Dress Shop, it will be around the corner from your hotel. Your hotel is called The Maiden's Inn, you're on the 2nd floor in room 210. It is at the corner of Kings Street and Stormland Lane. Are you familiar with that area?"

"Yes, my own apartment is near there, in my time," Sansa replied. _You're going crazy, aren't you?_ she thought to herself. "What if I need help at some point?"

"Come and find me. I will be here if you need me," Melisandre said as she ushered Sansa to the door and out onto the 3rd floor landing. "Good luck, child."

Sansa descended the stairs. They were still rickety and the building still seemed just as dilapidated and empty as it was when she first arrived. There was a part of her that believed this was all some elaborate joke, that she would go out into the real world looking like an ass in old timey clothing. But there was still something within her that told her this was real. She found her new shoes a little difficult to walk in, but she grew used to them as she walked down the still quiet, empty street. She reached the corner of King's Street and was met with a bustling, unpaved street with horse drawn carriages everywhere. People walked around in old styled clothes like her own. _Huh. So this is happening_, she thought as she took in her surroundings. The city seemed familiar to her yet very different at the same time. She could recognize the street but most of the buildings were different. The smell of the city was different. _Horse shit. A lot of horse shit_, Sansa thought as she tried to not gag. She walked down the street, noting how other women walked and tried to copy it. She was lucky she was naturally graceful, the skirt and bustle didn't make it easy to walk. Once she finally came upon the corner of Kings and Stormland, she found she had mastered the walk. She spotted her hotel across the street and made her way across the hardpacked dirt street, dodging piles of horse manure and carriages.

Sansa entered the hotel, finding it quite feminine and pretty. An older woman stood behind the clerk desk with a warm smile. Sansa smiled back and headed straight up the stairs to avoid any questioning from her. She reached the 2nd floor and found two girls giggling together in one of the room's doorways. Sansa flashed them a small smile and tried to obviously not rush into her room. _This is getting too real, I'm not ready for this_, Sansa thought as she closed her door and leaned against it. She let out a sigh and resigned to look around the room. She found a small purse containing a lot of money, her closet filled with clothes of varying colors, and odd looking make up products. Her room's decor was frilly and feminine. As much as Sansa could be a girly girl, this was just too much. On her vanity, there was a piece of paper listing information for the time she was now in, leaders, well known families, even information about the Starks of that day. There was also a small sepia-toned photograph of a young woman. The name Margaery was written on the back. _Pretty_, Sansa thought and opened a gold pocket watch decorated with etched vines. She had a half an hour until she had to "run into" Margaery. Sansa tucked the photograph and her 1884 cheat sheet under her mattress, slipped the watch into her new purse, and decided to explore and learn the area better. She exited her room and found another young woman unlocking the room next to hers.

"Hello! You must be new here. Welcome to the Maiden's Inn! My name is Gilly," the simple looking girl stated with a kind smile.

"Oh, yes, I just moved here. I'm Sansa," Sansa nervously said.

"Where did you move from? I'm here from Oldtown."

"Winterfell," Sansa answered shortly. "I'm very sorry, but I need to be somewhere."

"I'm so sorry for keeping you! Maybe we can meet each other better another time?" Gilly said hopefully, her warm smile never wavering.

"Sure," Sansa said and headed for the stairs.

She reached the street and was hit with the stench of manure again. _I'm going to need to get used to that._ Sansa continued up the street towards Stormland Lane, all the while noting other women's behaviors as she passed them. She found the Golden Rose and made her way inside. Even though she didn't know much about this time and it's fashions, she could tell this was a rather fancy dress shop. Sansa perused the racks of clothes slowly, pretending to be paying attention to the little details on them. As she checked the pocket watch in her purse, she heard the shop's door open and a lovely voice greeting the clerk.

"Good afternoon, Alys," the pretty brunette said as she gave an air kiss to each of the shop clerk's cheeks.

"Hello, Miss Tyrell! It is wonderful to see you again. We have your dress ready, would you like to try it on?"

"Of course, dear. I know you work wonders but I do just love putting dresses on, don't you?"

The clerk disappeared in the back of the store and Margaery began browsing. Sansa moved to clothing racks closer to her and pretended to be quite interested in a green ensemble.

"Oh that would just look perfect with your coloring, dear," Margaery's sing-songy voice called out to her.

"Do you really think so?" Sansa asked, putting the outfit against her body.

"Definitely," Margaery said, the corners of her lips curling up into a smile. "I tend to know most of dear Alys' customers, but I'm afraid I've never met you. I am Margaery Tyrell."

"Sansa Stark." Sansa thought she could see Margaery's eyes grow wider for a moment upon hearing her last name.

"As in the Starks of Winterfell?"

"Well, Rodrik Stark, the head of our family, is my uncle. But I still lived in Winterfell with my family."

"How exciting! I know all about the old families of Westeros but I've never met a Stark!"

"And the Tyrell line is certainly a historic one. Based on your fantastic style and beauty, I'm willing to venture a guess that you are Olenna Tyrell's granddaughter," Sansa said with a flattering smile.

"Oh, aren't you the sweetest!" Margaery exclaimed, faking bashfulness. "Yes, Father may be the head of our house, but we all know that it is Grandmother who truly runs it. I aim to be like her," Margaery smiled wistfully and picked a pale blue outfit off a rack to hold up to Sansa's body. "And you, dear, are quite a beauty yourself. This would go even better with your eyes, if I may say so."

"I am in need of a new one," Sansa said. Margaery gave a slight nod to a seamstress behind the counter and she came to take it from Margaery's hand.

"And may I inquire as to your move to King's Landing?" Margaery asked, walking Sansa to a dressing room where the seamstress helped Sansa undress and try on the new dress.

"Well, the North isn't the most populated area of Westeros. It is a bit of a slim pickings in the husband department up there. So my family and I decided I should come here to broaden my prospects," Sansa replied as the seamstress tightened her bodice. She found it surprisingly easy to spin these stories, she just had to refrain from getting too specific about things.

"We certainly have that in common, my dear Sansa. That is exactly why I've moved here as well. How long have you been here?"

"I've only arrived today. I just settled into the Maiden Inn before I decided to find myself a new dress to cure my home sickness." The seamstress pulled and pinned the fabric to form to Sansa's body.

"Oh, what luck we've run into each other! The Maiden Inn is perfectly suitable for a single young woman of your stature, but I formally invite you to dinner and to spend the night at the Tyrell Manor with me. You musn't be alone for your first night while you're home sick!"

"That's very kind of you," Sansa replied and stepped out from behind the curtain so Margaery could see the dress she picked out. The pretty brunette had changed into her perfectly tailored new outfit.

"It looks wonderful on you! Now, let's hurry and change so Alys may get to work on yours and I'll accompany you to your inn to collect any necessities for tonight."

Sansa did as she was told and met Alys at the counter to pay for the clothing. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Margaery peer into Sansa's purse and a pleased smile spread on the brunette's face at the sight of the large amount of money in it. As they left the shop and Margaery led her to her own horse drawn coach, Sansa couldn't help but wonder why she was sent to help her. She seemed sweet, even if it was a touch fake.

As they walked into the Inn, Margaery held her head up high, nose in the air. A few of the young women sitting and talking in the lobby hushed and gazed at her with admiration. Sansa had to guess that was the effect Margaery was going for. The two headed up to Sansa's room and ran into her neighbor Gilly, who smiled kindly at them. Sansa offered a small smile but noticed Margaery's knitted brow as she gave Gilly a head to toe look.

Once Sansa's door was shut, Margaery turned to Sansa with an annoyed look. "I don't think that one belongs here. She's just so - so plain and simple looking."

"I had actually thought the same thing when I met her earlier. She said she's from Oldtown. I didn't talk to her for more than a minute, but she certainly seems to want to be friends."

"No. No, Sansa, I can't allow that for you. She's the kind of person that would lower your status, she certainly lowers the clientele of this establishment. From Oldtown, you say? That's near my home in High Garden. Well that explains it; Oldtown is just full of professors from the Citadel and their families. Her father is probably just one of those professors. There are no old Westeros families in Oldtown, trust me. Miss Gilly will not be of help in your quest of finding a good husband. Unless we would want her around to make our prettiness shine even brighter by comparison," Margaery laughed at her own mean joke. Sansa laughed along, feeling a little bad but also thinking Margaery had a point.

Sansa packed a traveling bag with things she thought may be considered essentials and the two headed back down to Margaery's coach. Sansa could feel envious looks from her fellow lodgers for seeming to be friends with such a high class woman. She found she liked the feeling. _This is probably how Jeyne felt when we were best friends throughout our school years_, Sansa thought.

"Miss Tyrell!" a voice rang out as they were about to board the coach. The girls turned to find a handsome man in a soldier's uniform running down the street towards them.

"Ah. Dickon Tarly. Joy," Margaery's whispered voice dripped with dull sarcasm. Sansa's heart leapt now that she didn't have to figure out how to bring up the subject of this man to Margaery or how to find him.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Tyrell," the handsome soldier said to Margaery as she reluctantly held out her hand for him to kiss.

"Sansa, dear, this is Mr. Dickon Tarly. He's a family friend, I guess you may say. Mr. Tarly, this is my brand new friend Sansa Stark."

"It is good to meet you, Miss Stark. May I introduce you to my friend Jon Snow? He is a fellow soldier with me here at the barracks." Dickon moved aside and another handsome man in fatigues came walking up to them. "Jon, I have the pleasure of introducing you to the lovely Miss Margaery Tyrell and her friend Miss Sansa Stark."

This Jon Snow gave a nod and small smile to each of them.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tarly, we really must be getting back to the manor now," Margaery said coolly.

"I've told you time and time again to call me Dickon, Miss Tyrell," Dickon said with a crooked smile.

Margaery gave a disapproving hum and turned to enter the coach.

"Um, it was a pleasure meeting you both," Sansa said, awkwardly giving a slight curtsy before joining Margaery.

"Well, that Dickon sure is handsome and seems interested in you," Sansa said, broaching the subject she was sent here for.

"Handsome, yes. But that is all he has going for him. And I will not waste time on men who have no chance with me."

"He seems rather nice as well, no?"

"Niceness has nothing to do with upper class marriage, dear. You should know that, coming from the Stark line."

"Oh yes, of course. I see it as an unnecessary positive in a match," Sansa said, trying to recover.

"Yes, I would agree with that. Dickon is handsome and nice enough it seems. However, he comes from a military family in Horn Hill, nearby our family home. His father is the captain in charge of our soldiers in the Reach and my father is friendly with him. The Tarly's are well off, for the most part, but they're still just a middle class family with a higher position than most."

"So do you have your eye on anyone specific?" Sansa asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh yes. Joffrey Baratheon, The Governor's eldest son."

"Ah, yes, the Baratheons are definitely a prominent family," Sansa offered.

"And his mother is a Lannister. They're the richest family in Westeros, other than my own family, of course," Margaery said and winked.

"He is quite the catch."

"The biggest catch in Westeros. And I'm so close to catching him!"

"How so?" Sansa asked, trying to hide her worry.

"I've recently met him and laid my charms on him. He seemed quite receptive." The brunette had a sly smirk on her pretty face.

As they were driven along the streets, Sansa stared out her window and tried to pick out the buildings that were still in existence in her day. Suddenly, Dickon Tarly's friend, Jon Snow, popped up into her mind. She smiled to herself as she thought of his handsome face, unique gray eyes, and curly dark hair.

"That friend of Dickon's was pretty good looking," Sansa ventured.

"If you're into that brooding look. But I could tell you right now, dear, that you can do much better than that. I know of no family with the name Snow, and I know plenty of families. And if he's hanging about with Dickon, he's more than likely of a lower class than you and I."

_What are you doing? You're not actually here to find a husband! Focus on Margaery so you can go back home_, Sansa thought to herself and continued to gaze out the window.


	3. i think i'm too cool to know ya

**Chapter 3: i think i'm too cool to know ya**

_(Chapter title taken from Lana Del Rey's Brooklyn Baby)_

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Sansa laid awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was her fourth morning in this strange time. W_hat am I doing? How am I supposed to change her mind about Dickon? He's not able to climb up the social ladder enough for her to even give a damn about him_, she thought. _Maybe I should find him and talk to him myself._ She found out, after yet again broaching the Dickon subject with Margaery while they lunched the previous day, that he had been assigned as the ranking officer at the army recruitment center further down King Street. _Alright, time to play cupid._ Sansa heaved herself off of her bed and prepared to get ready. Margaery's maid did Sansa's hair the day before and thankfully the older woman worked slow, Sansa could now confidently try it on herself. _Ugh, these dresses do nothing for the bottom half of my body_, she thought as she picked out a lilac dress from her well stocked closet. She had become used to the complicated layers of clothing but she still struggled with tightening the bodice correctly. After adding a little makeup to her face, she grabbed her purse and headed out.

Some other young ladies from the inn milled about and socialized in the lobby, but when Sansa came down the stairs, she could feel their eyes on her and she could feel their envy. She was the aloof, pretty, new girl who was friends with Margaery Tyrell; word might have even spread that she herself was a Stark. As she walked out the door and onto the porch, Gilly gave her a smile and a wave, beckoning Sansa to her little table where she was reading a book. _You can't be seen talking to her, Sansa, she'll bring down your reputation and Margaery would not want to hang around you_, she thought as she ignored Gilly and kept walking. She told herself it was for her mission and chose to ignore the thought that she really was starting to feel that someone like Gilly was below her.

Sansa walked a ways down King Street until she could see the recruitment center ahead. _Okay, I need some sort of cover for why I would be down here_, she thought as she scanned the businesses nearby. There was a food market, a men's suit shop, a drug store, and a hardware store. She was about to settle for buying something from the drug store until she spotted a sign for a bakery just passed the recruitment center. _Bakery! Definitely bakery_, she thought happily. Sansa slowed her walk a little as she passed the recruitment center, hoping and wishing that Dickon would see her. She would go into the center to find him if she had to but she thought it would be less obvious if he were to spot her first. No such luck, however, and she entered the cute little Street of Flour Bakery next door. Sansa's sweet tooth jumped for joy when she began to smell the deliciousness of it all.

"How may I help you, Miss?" the old man behind the counter asked

"I'm looking for something a bit lemony," Sansa replied, perusing the display case.

"Well, we've got our lemon cakes right here," he suggested, pointing towards the end of the case.

"You have lemon cakes?" she asked, eyes wide with excitement.

"Old family recipe, passed down through the years."

Sansa exited the bakery, her lemon cakes wrapped neatly in brown parchment paper tied with twine.

"Miss Stark!"

_Success_, Sansa thought while smiling and turning towards the voice who called her name. She found Dickon and Jon Snow standing in front of the recruitment center.

"Sansa, please, Mr. Tarly" she replied, giving him a kind smile and a nod of her head.

"Only if you call me Dickon. We just saw you passing by, I hope you don't mind if we came out to say hello?"

"Of course I don't mind. Seeing a friendly face in the big city is always welcome."

"Oh yes, it was Jon who spotted you through the window." Sansa thought she saw Dickon get a small nudge in the ribs from Jon's elbow.

"Good morning," Jon said, giving her a slight bow.

"Sansa instead of Miss Stark? Are you Northmen not as formal as we are down here?" Dickon asked.

"Not in my immediate family, at least," Sansa answered with a shrug.

"Jon here also insists on not going by Mr. Snow; he too is from the North."

"Molestown," Jon specified. "No where near as nice as Winterfell, of course."

"And may I ask how Miss Tyrell has been doing? I haven't seen her since we met you," Dickon said, a light blush coming across his cheeks.

"She's doing well, Dickon." Sansa gave him a small, teasing smile.

"I hope I'm not being too bold if I were to ask you for a bit of help?" Dickon asked.

"Of course not. What can I do for you?" Sansa already had an inkling as to what it would be about.

"I must ask you for your help with Miss Tyrell. I so badly want her to see I could be good match for her. I know your friendship with her is rather new, but you're my only hope, I believe. Maybe you could suggest her having lunch with me some day? Or if a lunch date is too forward, maybe some other plan that would also include you and my friend here," Dickon said with a smile, his hand clapped firmly on Jon's shoulder.

"You and Margaery would seem like quite the handsome pair, I have to admit. I'll do my best, Dickon. Now I have to be headed back to my inn, Margaery will be coming by to pick me up in a little while. I'll more than likely be coming over here on a regular basis if these lemon cakes are as good as I think they will be. I'll give you an update the next time I see you."

"Thank you so much for your help. I have to be getting back to work now, but I can certainly spare Jon for a little bit for him to escort you back to the inn," Dickon said, his smile wide.

"Oh, that's not necessary," Sansa said, thinking of her fellow lodgers at the inn seeing her with a lower class man.

"I insist. The city is lovely but it's not always the safest for ladies walking on their own. Jon, take your time." Dickon smiled at his friend and turned back into the office.

"He's quite old fashioned," Sansa commented, more to herself than the quiet man who stood before her.

"That he is," Jon replied with a small smile. "Shall we?" he asked, his hand motioning towards the direction of her inn.

"You really didn't have to do this," Sansa said as they began their walk.

"I don't mind at all."

Minutes of silence passed between them as they walked and it had become awkward. Sansa fiddled with the twine of her wrapped lemon cakes. In the silence, she could now feel the boning of her bodice jabbing at her. _I definitely didn't put it on right_, she thought as she tried to discreetly shift it a little.

"So, you're from Molestown," Sansa said, more of a statement than a question, unable to stand the awkward silence any longer.

"Yes, Molestown. How is it down in Winterfell?"

Sansa noticed how quickly he changed the subject. _He's probably embarrassed, Molestown has always been a poor town_, she thought to herself. "It's nice. Of course, my family doesn't run it, we're just relatives," Sansa replied. _Don't get into specifics, girl, that's how you could get caught in lies_, she thought.

"What brings you down to King's Landing?"

"To broaden my horizons, basically. More opportunities and what not."

"In what? Marriage?"

"For the most part. What brought you down here?"

"I was stationed at Fort Black, just north of Molestown. The Lord Commander sent me down here to find recruits. I just arrived a couple of weeks ago myself."

They fell into another bout of silence. Sansa could see her inn coming up and tried to figure out a reason for her to walk the rest of the way alone without seeming obvious or mean.

"You will try with Margaery, right?" Jon asked, breaking the silence.

"Of course I will. I really do think they could be good together."

"Good. Because he seems to be truly in love with her, even with her being rather cold towards him."

"She's just a woman born into high society and trying to live up to it, Jon," Sansa replied, coolly defensive.

"Yes. But she seems to revel in it more than most and doesn't care whose feelings she hurts along the way."

They reached the front of the inn just as he finished his sentence.

"Thank you for walking me, Jon," Sansa said, turning toward him and giving him a curt nod before turning back towards the entryway. Just as she was about to walk in, she could see Gilly chancing another wave to her from the table she still sat at. And once again, Sansa ignored it and continued through the door, seeing Gilly's crestfallen face from the corner of her eye. Sansa also could have sworn she heard Jon's voice mumble "I guess you don't care either" in a disappointed tone before he turned to walk back to work.

Sansa went up to her room and looked out her window. She was able to pick out Jon through the crowds as he walked away. His seeming disappointment bothered her but didn't know why. Once he left her field of view, she turned to her package of lemon cakes and devoured them. They were the best she had ever had and she knew she would miss them once she returned to her own time. _Whenever that is_, she thought. She heard the neighboring room's door open and close. _Ah, Gilly finally went to her room. Thankfully she wouldn't be downstairs still when Margaery arrives. I don't know how many times I have to ignore that girl for her to take a hint_, Sansa thought.

As she waited for Margaery to pick her up, she read over the notes that were provided for her and made sure to thoroughly go over the information on this guy, Joffrey, that Margaery seemed to be obsessed with. When she saw Margaery's coach pull up in front of the inn, Sansa made her way down to meet her. Once again, the stares she got from other lodgers made Sansa hold her nose in the air as she walked by.

"I have news! We are lunching with Joffrey and his sister Myrcella tomorrow!" Margaery exclaimed as soon as the driver opened the coach's door for Sansa. As Sansa got into the coach and sat, she could see some of the other girls on the porch and their awed faces. Sansa immediately copied those girls' shocked, open-mouthed expressions.

"Oh, wow, Margaery!" she replied, feigning excitement. _This doesn't bode well for my planning_, she thought.

"Yes! Yesterday, at the tea party I went to with my grandmother, Myrcella and her mother were there. I struck up conversation with her she ended up inviting me to lunch with her and her brother. In an attempt to look less assuming, I brought you up to her and how you're a Stark and you're new here. She insisted I bring you along. And, to return the favor, I just ask that you keep Myrcella occupied while I work my wonders on her brother."

"Of course, Margaery," Sansa said and smiled a fake smile.

They arrived at the Tyrell manor and had tea and sandwiches with Margaery's grandmother, Olenna. Sansa found the Tyrell matriarch absolutely entertaining, with her unabashed personality and sometimes bawdy way of speaking.

Sansa let Margaery come down from her high of the thought of spending time with Joffrey. Later that night, as they readied for bed in Margaery's huge bedroom, she brought up Dickon and Jon.

"I ran into Dickon and Jon when I went to the bakery this morning," Sansa started.

"Hmmm." Margaery's reply was that of unenthused indifference.

"He really is sweet, Margaery. And he does seem to really care for you. He asked about you."

"I need more than sweet and handsome, Miss Stark," Margaery replied, giving her a sly smile. "And he was still hanging around that Jon Snow character?"

"Yes, he also works in the recruitment center. He had been stationed way up north at Fort Black and was sent here by their Lord Commander to find recruits."

Margaery looked over at Sansa, one eyebrow lifted in a questioning expression. "Sansa, I have to warn you to not be too interested in Jon Snow."

"Oh, yes, I know. He's of a lower class. I definitely wasn't interested."

"I asked my grandmother about the last name Snow. She told me that's the surname given to orphans in the North whose parents are unknown. Over in the Reach, we have orphans with the surname of Flowers. I'm surprised you didn't know about Snows, considering you're from the North."

"Oh, I had a very sheltered life in Winterfell. It's one of the reasons why I moved here, I wanted to experience the world without the blinders my family insisted on," Sansa lied. She was surprised at how fast she could come up with a cover.

"Completely understandable, dear," Margaery said and patted Sansa's hand. "Anyways, that means he's either an orphan himself with no family or he's descended from one; and since he still has that last name, that must mean his family members never married up." Margaery let out a small, but dramatic, sigh as she got into her bed. "Which means Dickon has chosen to be friends with someone much lower than his family, and that doesn't bode well for his reputation."

"I don't think Dickon sees it that way," Sansa offered.

"Yes, well, that's the problem. I do."

Sansa laid in the dark, Margaery's steady breathing as she slept was the only sound Sansa could hear. _Dickon isn't making this easy for me_, she thought. _Maybe I can get Margaery turned off of Joffrey somehow._

As she began to drift asleep, her mind tried to figure out why she kept thinking of Jon's disappointed tone and wonder why she would even care.


	4. change is a powerful thing, i feel it---

**Chapter 4: change is a powerful thing, i feel it comin' in me**

_(Chapter title taken from Lana Del Rey's Change)_

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"Pick out any dress you'd like, Sansa!" Margaery's voice rang out from her vanity to her as she stood in Margaery's rather large closet. "May I suggest a moss colored ensemble?"

Sansa's eyes scanned the racks of color-coordinated clothes until she found dresses in different shades of green. She selected a mossy color that had gold embroidered details on it and brought it out to show Margaery.

"Perfect! We must look our best!" Margaery squealed, her maid pinning curled locks of her hair into a pretty style.

After another hour of primping, Margaery finally decided they were ready. The driver took them into a ritzy part of the city and came to a stop in front of the sprawling Governor's mansion, named the Red Keep for it's high brick walls surrounding the large property. Two guards standing at the gate opened it for them after the driver announced their arrival. They traveled the long path until they reached the mansion. Sansa recognized it from her own time; the property's land was now a park and the mansion itself was now an art museum, the biggest difference was that the brick wall was gone.

The girls were led inside by a butler, through the house and out into the expansive backyard where a table was beautifully set on the patio.

"Margaery!" a pretty blond girl, probably in her late teens, exclaimed and ran up to them.

"Myrcella! It's so wonderful to see you again," Margaery said as the young blond hugged her. "Sansa, I have the pleasure of introducing you to Miss Myrcella Baratheon."

"It's an honor to meet you, Miss Baratheon," Sansa said, bowing her head slightly. She had no idea how you're supposed to greet a child of a governor, she was sure it wasn't usually so formal but this was a much different time than she was used to.

"You must call me Myrcella!" she said with a kind smile. "And you are the Stark my new friend has told me about. Come, Sansa, you must tell me of the North!"

"Has lunch been called yet?" a male's voice called out as the girls conversed. Sansa looked towards the doorway leading into the house. A young man, equally as blond as his sister, stood there with an impatient look on his handsome face.

_Well, he does have good looks on his side_, Sansa thought, annoyed at not being able to use his looks against him with Margaery.

"It was just about to be called for, Mr. Baratheon," the butler replied, bowing to him.

The young man spotted their two pretty guests and strutted over towards them. "Aren't you going to introduce me, Myrcella?" he asked with an arrogant smile.

"I was just getting to that," Myrcella quietly said, an irritated look crossed her face for a moment. "Joff, this is Margaery Tyrell, whom I believe you've already met, and Sansa Stark. Ladies, this is my brother Joffrey."

"Oh yes, we met at one of your mother's fabulous dinners she often throws," Margaery said, a small but flirty smile on her lips.

"Ah, right. I remember now," Joffrey said, trying to play off his forgetfulness. "You were the prettiest young lady there."

Margaery batted her eyelashes at him and pretended to be bashfully coy.

"And you're a Stark, huh? We don't normally see Starks this far south."

"Yes, my family likes the cold of the North, Mr. Baratheon," Sansa said.

"Pretty girls, such as yourselves, may call me Joffrey." He gave his own flirty smirk to Sansa. Even though she thought him handsome, Sansa didn't want to detract from any of Margaery's attention. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's sit and eat."

Lunch went smoothly enough. Myrcella asked questions of the North and the Reach, Joffrey looked slightly disinterested and bored at times, and Margaery tried to use her charm on him. Once their lunch was finished, Myrcella suggested they take a walk around the gardens.

"I've heard all about your famous rose garden. I do love roses!" Margaery exclaimed. Sansa noticed the brunette's arms pushing her breasts together, in order to make them look bigger, towards Joffrey. Sansa stifled a laugh.

As they got up from their table, Margaery lifted an eyebrow at Sansa. Taking that as a hint, Sansa threaded her arm through Myrcella's and started to ask questions about the gardens as they began their walking. Margaery smiled and looped her own arm through Joffrey's and they slowly followed along.

Sansa would look back towards them a few times, seeing Margaery whispering in his ear or giggling at whatever he was saying. _What's so bad about them being together?_ Sansa began to wonder. _He may seem a little pompous but so is Margaery. Maybe they deserve each other._

After a while, as they admired the topiary garden, Joffrey grew bored and made an excuse to leave. As they said goodbye, he suggested Margaery and Sansa join him and his friend Harry the next day at Blackwater Bay to watch the boat races. Sansa could feel the excitement radiate off of Margaery. The three ladies finished the tour of the gardens and went back to the house.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Sansa," Myrcella said, giving her a hug.

"The pleasure was all mine, Myrcella," Sansa replied. It really was a pleasure, Myrcella was sweet and attentive, stylish and sophisticated. _Why couldn't she be my sister instead of Arya?_ Sansa thought.

As they were driven back to Sansa's inn, Margaery couldn't stop talking about Joffrey, the things he said to her and how handsome he is, and going over their plans for the boat races.

"And I'm sure he's bringing Harry for you!" Margaery exclaimed as they pulled up to the inn.

"Do you know him?" Sansa asked, getting out of the coach.

"I know of him. Harry Hardyng is Joffrey's best friend. Handsome. Single. And, most importantly, from a rich society family. He could be an excellent match for you! Anyways, I'll pick you up tomorrow morning around 9. Bye, dear!"

Sansa walked up to her room and watched Margaery's coach drive down the road until it was out of sight. She grabbed her purse and walked right back down and out onto the sidewalk. She walked up Kings street and turned onto that quiet, small street that she started out on when she first arrived here. Finding the abandoned building, she pushed the heavy wooden door open and went right up the creaky flights of stairs. Room 304′s door was cracked open slightly, just as she had first found it. She entered it and found Melisandre, wearing the same dark burgundy dress and glowing choker, standing by the fire once again.

"Hello, child."

"Hey. Are you sure Margaery and Joffrey shouldn't end up together?"

"The Lord of Light is never wrong."

"Well, can the Lord of Light help me out then? Margaery seems very set on Joffrey and has absolutely no interest in Dickon since he's of a lower class than her. Can your lord make him upper class somehow?"

"No, child. That wouldn't help Margaery change for the better."

"Okay, you can stop calling me child," Sansa said haughtily. "Dickon is nice and in love with her, I'm sure. But Joffrey seems nice enough. And I'm pretty sure I can't change Margaery's mind."

"You must keep trying, Sansa. Do you know of the Great Sept of Baelor Tragedy?"

"We learned something about it in one of my history classes. There was a bombing that destroyed one side of the church and killed a lot of people."

"We normally do not talk of the events that may change with the help of people like you; the less you know of changing history, the better. However, you need to know the severity of this situation. The bombing is a bit of a mystery in your time, correct? No one really knows the real culprit. The Lord of Light does. Joffrey's mother planned it, she had her assistant plant the bomb. It was supposed to go off on the day of the wedding. Margaery and her family were there and died. Their guests died. Joffrey wasn't supposed to be there yet, his mother had tried to make sure he ran late that day. But Joffrey found a way around her obstacles and had just arrived at the Sept; he died as well."

"She killed everyone at her own son's wedding?" Sansa asked in horror.

"Yes. She may be a fan of Margaery now and think this match would be a good one. But eventually, Cersei will feel threatened by the young woman and will be jealous of her."

"So then why can't someone change this Cersei like I'm trying to change Margaery?"

"Believe me, some have tried. They all failed. Cersei is another story, she's practically untouchable and the old man that is her assistant protects her like a hawk. Do not worry about Cersei. Do your best with Margaery. If she never marries Joffrey, the Great Sept of Baelor Tragedy need never happen."

"Well, that's a lot of pressure, no big deal," Sansa said sarcastically. "Got any tips? I'm pretty sure Margaery is getting annoyed with me bringing up the subject of Dickon on a daily basis."

"Try to exploit the faults in Joffrey. Hopefully they will build upon one another until it's too much for her."

Sansa exited the abandoned building. She looked up at the sky and found the sun was beginning to set behind the buildings. She sighed and tried not to feel defeated. As she reached the intersection at Kings Street, her stomach began to growl. Walking in the direction of her inn, Sansa kept an eye out for something to eat quick before it became dark. She caught sight of a deli and as she made her way towards to the door, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

She turned to find Jon coming up behind her, his dark curly hair free from his hair tie. She found it looked out of place with the prim and proper style of the other men milling about, even those with longer hair kept it tied back. _It looks so soft_, Sansa thought and imagined her fingers running though the inky black hair. _No, Sansa, he's not good enough for you._

"Good evening, Jon."

"What are you doing out, walking alone? It's almost dark and Dickon was right, this isn't a safe city."

"I was just going to grab a bite to eat and then turn in," Sansa answered, gesturing towards the deli.

"I was just going to grab dinner as well, may I join you?"

"I guess," Sansa said indifferently. She wanted to keep her distance from this attractive man for the sake of her reputation but she didn't want to be outright rude and say no.

Jon opened the door for her and they walked in. The small deli was pretty empty, a few people were ordering their meats and sandwiches at the counter, but nobody was sitting at the tables next to the window. Jon had frequented this deli on a few occasions on his work days and suggested the pastrami sandwich and french onion soup, Sansa took his word for it, and Jon insisted on paying. They selected a table against the storefront window and waited for their food.

"Sansa, I must really apologize if I was rude yesterday. I realized I might have been unkind regarding your friend Margaery," Jon said. Sansa looked up at him and studied his face. He looked apologetic but there was something about his tone that made her feel like he didn't truly mean his apology. Part of her understood if he didn't regret his comments about Margaery, she was probably a little hard to like if you were on the receiving end of her coldness. "I just know Dickon is a nice man and I don't want to see him ending up hurt in this situation that he insists on being in."

"He does seem persistent, that one," Sansa smiled. "It's okay, Jon, I understand. You were being protective of your friend and I was being protective of mine."

Their number was called and Jon got up to get their food. Sansa's eyes swept over the length of his body as he got up and a little smile grew on her lips. _No, Sansa, he's not good for your reputation_, she thought and quickly erased the smile. He wasn't wrong about the meal though, it truly was good and satisfying. As they finished, Sansa thanked him for it.

"May I walk you back to your lodgings? It's dark now, I wouldn't want you walking there alone."

"That'll be fine," she replied as they got up. _Should have said no_, Sansa thought.

Street lamps lit their way as Jon asked her about her family. At first she tried to be vague but then surprised herself as she began to talk about her actual family members.

"And my mother has been annoying. She'd been so clingy and emotional before I moved here. My father has been obsessing over the crime rates in this city and had been constantly warning me about this horror and that terror."

"It just sounds like they care about you, Sansa," Jon offered, a cute little laugh escaping his smile.

"Of course they do, but do they have to be so annoying about it?"

"You're their daughter, they're never going to stop worrying about your well being. Take it as a positive. My father left as soon as he found out my mother was pregnant with me. I've never met him and my mother refuses to talk about him. My mother cares and worries about me. But it would have been nice having two parents like that."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jon," Sansa said, chancing a glance at him.

"It's okay. Really, it is. She's been a great mother and I truly have no want to know my father." She believed him, he looked content instead of sad or angry.

"Any annoying siblings? Because I've got one of those."

"No, just me and my mother," Jon laughed.

"My older brother is fine, he can be protective like normal big bothers are, but that's okay. My two younger brothers are just that - young, and not quite mature yet. That can be annoying but it's also fine because they have more growing up to do. And then there's my sister." Sansa's voice grew irritated at the thought of Arya.

"Uh oh," Jon laughed as they crossed a street.

"She's a young adult, such as myself just two years younger. But she acts even younger that our younger bothers! Her immature antics drive me mad. It's like she aims it at me because she knows how annoyed I get with her."

"Hmmm. Well, to me it seems like she wants your attention."

"Well she definitely gets my attention, and not in a good way."

"Have you two ever been close?"

"Never. We're so different. We had very different social circles and hobbies."

"And she's always been like this towards you?"

"Ever since I can remember."

"It's a cry for your attention. Maybe, in her mind, any attention from you is good attention. She probably wants to be close to you but she does it in her own special way."

"I don't know how she could believe her immaturity would bring us closer."

"Just give her a chance next time you go back to Winterfell. You might be surprised. Be nice to her, let her into your world and maybe that'll end her immature attention-seeking antics."

Sansa let out a not-quite-convinced humph. "Maybe." Jon smiled at her and Sansa found his smile quite disarming. But then she realized they were just across the street from the Maiden's Inn. Remembering that she shouldn't be seen with him, she turned to him. "I can take it from here," she said with her own smile. "You can go ahead on to your barracks."

"You don't want to be seen with me, huh?" A sad smile formed on his lips.

"No - I just -" Sansa stuttered as she was caught off guard.

"It's alright, Sansa, I get it. I'm just a low born military man."

Sansa open her mouth to try to say something again but she couldn't figure out what.

"It's okay, really. Could I just suggest something to you? Maybe be a little nicer to that one girl that waved to you yesterday when I walked you back here. I saw her face after you ignored her, she looked very dejected. It probably wouldn't kill you to be nicer to people below you. I mean, you've been nice to me tonight and it hasn't killed you, right? Just a suggestion. Good night, Sansa."

_It would only kill my reputation_, Sansa thought as she watched Jon turn and walk down Stormland Lane. She crossed the street and entered the lobby. Most of the girls must have retired to their bedrooms but a few were gossiping by the lobby's fireplace. When they saw Sansa enter, she could see them turn to each other and whisper. Sansa was no longer as confident about her fellow lodgers' admirations. _I wonder if they are actually envious and in awe of me and who I have contact with? Or are they just talking shit?_ she thought as she climbed the stairs. As she unlocked the door to her room, she could see the light coming from the bottom gap of Gilly's door. _You really have been a cold bitch since you got here, haven't you?_ she thought as she closed her door behind her and put her purse down. _Ugh, Jon's really gotten into your head, hasn't he?_ she irritably thought and pulled her door open again. She gave a light knock on Gilly's door. _Maybe she won't hear it and I could just go to sleep_, Sansa thought as she waited.

"Sansa?" a shocked Gilly asked when she opened her door.

"Hi, Gilly. Do you have a moment to talk?"

"Of course." The simple looking girl was obviously confused and wary about Sansa finally giving her attention. She stood back and gestured for Sansa to come into her room.

"I just wanted to apologize for they way I've been toward you since I arrived here."

"There's no need for apologies," Gilly said shyly and sat on her bed.

"You're just being nice, Gilly. I've been awful towards you."

"Well, I had been wondering why you've been ignoring me. But I understand, you've been busy with Miss Tyrell and I've heard rumors that you've been keeping company with the Baratheons. That's all quite exciting."

"That's still not an excuse to ignore you. I think I let the pressures of the high class society influence me too much. I'm truly sorry."

"It's okay, Sansa," Gilly said, giving her a reassuring smile. "Thank you for apologizing."

"So you're from Oldtown? What brings you up to King's Landing?" Sansa asked, sitting on the bed and facing Gilly.

"Oh! My father is a professor at the university and he sent me here to be tutored by an old colleague of his who had retired here to the city. Professor Ebrose specialized in historic literature, which I'm terribly fascinated with. The professor is retired but he agreed to take me on due to his friendship with my father."

The two talked until it grew late. Sansa continued with her vague family and Winterfell stories whenever Gilly asked and she found it quite easy to get Gilly talking about the subjects that interested her. Gilly was so very sweet and kind; Sansa felt extremely bad for treating her so coldly. Once they said their good nights and Sansa went back to her room, she finally collapsed on her bed in exhaustion. _This was a long day_, she thought. As she drifted to sleep, an unfamiliar pang of missing her family filled her.


	5. the prettiest in-crowd that you had---

**Chapter 5: the prettiest in-crowd that you had ever seen**

_(Chapter title taken from Lana Del Rey's This is What Makes Us Girls)_

* * *

"The light blue one is definitely a good choice, I think!" Gilly said, standing in front of Sansa's closet the next morning. Sansa invited her over to help her get ready for the boat races; she desperately needed help with tightening her bodice, the boning would still poke at her whenever she tried to do it herself.

"That's what I was thinking. I think it would go well with my eyes." Sansa thought it might be a good idea to wear the dress Margaery had picked out for her on the first day they met.

"Are you nervous?" Gilly asked, coming around the back of Sansa to tighten the bodice laces.

"Not really. Margaery is the one who wants to be with the Governor's son."

"Well, what about this Harry Hardyng? From what I understand, he'd be quite a good match."

"I'm not really worried about that," Sansa said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Oh, aren't you mainly here to find a well-suited husband though? I can't imagine many more men to better fit that description than a Hardyng who is friends with the Baratheons."

"Yes, of course! I just mean I'll worry about it after I meet him and see if he's worth the fuss." Sansa winked, trying to cover for her forgetful slip of why she supposedly moved into the city.

Gilly helped Sansa style her hair. Even though Gilly didn't do much with her own hair, she was still good at styling Sansa's. As they talked and giggled over girly things, Sansa found herself being more comfortable and happy with her than Margaery. Margaery was like all of her friends that she grew up with. Gilly was like all the other girls Sansa never took the time to get to know. And now, thanks to Jon Snow instigating this friendship with Gilly, Sansa thought she might have missed out on some good friendships in her youth.

"It's time!" Gilly said enthusiastically when she spotted Margaery's coach pulling up to the inn.

"Alright. Wish me luck!" Sansa said with a smile as they walked out of her room.

"Good luck, Sansa!" Gilly exclaimed as Sansa made her way down the stairs.

"Oh, you're wearing the dress I picked out for you! How sweet!" Margaery said as the driver opened the door for Sansa to get in.

"And you look as stunning as ever, Margaery," Sansa said, admiring the brunette's green dress with embroidered gold roses.

As they were driven towards Blackwater Bay, Margaery regaled Sansa with all the good stories she could think of about Harry Hardyng. "Now, not to be crass by any means, dear, but you would be a step down for him since you don't come from the head of the Stark family line. But you are still a Stark. And a beautiful one at that! He'd be lucky to have you and he'd be a step up for you. Win-win situation!"

Sansa just smiled at Margaery's enthusiasm. They arrived at the bay and walked through the stylish, and obviously rich, crowds.

"Margaery! Sansa!" a voice rang out. The girls turned in the direction it came from and found Joffrey behind a sectioned off area, two guards stood at the entrance to it.

Sansa could see Margaery's charming smile spread on her face as she grabbed Sansa's hand and pulled her along towards him.

"Let the lovely ladies in, Trant," Joffrey barked to one of the guards. The guard moved out of the entrance and Sansa could feel his creepy eyes lingering on the girls as they passed. "Girls! It's so good for you to have joined us! May I introduce my friend Harrold Hardyng?" Joffrey asked, as he brought them to his sitting area.

"Ladies, you can just call me Harry."

_Well, he's certainly good looking_, Sansa thought, a smile forming on her lips when Harry kissed her hand.

"You must be Sansa Stark; you have the beautiful porcelain skin of the North," Harry said as his lips left her hand.

_Such a flirt_, Sansa thought but she couldn't help but blush.

"You've guessed correctly," she replied with a flirty smile of her own.

"And how are you fairing in our grand city?" he asked, gesturing for her to take the seat beside his.

"Well enough, I believe. Especially with Margaery to guide me."

The races started and Harry would point out the best boats of each heat and which sailors he knew personally. When a boat with a golden lion emblazoned on it lined up at the starting line, Joffrey went on about how his grandfather owns that boat, how much it cost, how many times it has won and the profits of the wins. He was speaking rather loudly so he could make sure the other high class spectators sitting around them would hear. Margaery sat next to him, doing a very good job at pretending to be interested in the sport. After a few hours of qualifying heats, the final race commenced and when the golden lion boat had won the prize, Joffrey went on with his bragging. They spent some time having the boys introduce them to the sailors they knew and watched as they checked out the boats. Quite a few fellow spectators moved out of the way and watched as the group of four attractive young adults walked through the crowds.

"May we talk you ladies into accompanying us for some pre-dinner cocktails followed by a meal at the Iron Throne this evening?" Harry asked her and Margaery, leaning in close to Sansa.

"We'd love to!" Margaery said almost too quickly.

Sansa felt surprised that she for once didn't mind this plan and that she didn't mind wanting to hang around Harry a little more. He had that confidence that bordered between sexy and cocky and he was the type of guy she'd go for in her day. _Why not have fun and flirt a little while trying to figure out how to turn Margaery off of Joffrey?_ she asked herself.

"The Iron Throne is the place to be lately, all the young society people like to be seen going there," Margaery whispered to Sansa, looping their arms together as they walked behind the boys to another boat. "This is going so well, don't you think?"

"It certainly seems so," Sansa whispered back.

"And Harry seems to be quite taken with you, dear! He can hardly take his eyes off you and always seems so close to you."

Sansa just gave her a little smile and blushed.

Once the boys had their fill of boats, they led the girls to their coach and helped them in. Harry got in and sat rather close to Sansa, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek whenever he turned to say something to her.

They reached the restaurant, the facade decorated with golden-colored metal, and were shown into the dark lounge. Each of the chairs at the small, circular tables were shaped like thrones. The atmosphere was very ritzy indeed. And once again, heads were turning in their direction. Harry pulled out a chair for her and ordered their drinks from a waitress. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Joffrey flop down in a chair without ever pulling one out for Margaery like a gentleman would. Margaery's smiling face masked whatever embarrassment it caused.

While Margaery focused her attention on Joffrey, who sometimes looked bored and sometimes looked around the room in search of more people he might know, Harry focused his on Sansa.

"Well, I am the heir of Arryn estate. I'm a distant relation but there are no other male heirs ahead of me. So, I will be getting all of the estate and their business one day," Harry told her, after she was able to change the subject from his questions of Winterfell. He seemed quite proud to be an heir for an estate who's family wasn't really even his.

Harry had the gift of making a girl feel like they were the only one in the room in his eyes. His attention was solely on Sansa, his eyes bore into hers, his hand would brush her arm or even lightly rest on her thigh. _Well that seems inappropriate for 1884 but I'm not complaining_, she thought. When he excused himself to use the restroom, Sansa realized she hadn't been paying attention to what was going on with Margaery and Joffrey.

"How are things going?" Sansa whispered to her friend as Joffrey gave a drink order to another waitress.

"Well. He's been giving me an account of his fencing championship win," Margaery whispered back with a bored smile.

Sansa excused herself to the ladies room. The maitre d' gestured towards its location and she finally found it. As she was about to enter, she heard a sexy, feminine, little moan just around the corner of the hallway. Then that moan whispered out Harry's name. Sansa's left eye brow cocked up and she quietly snuck her way up the hallway and peeked around the corner. Further down, near a back fire exit, was Harry. He had their first waitress pushed against the wall. His lips on her neck, her hands in his hair, his hand lifting her thigh so her leg was wrapped around him, and his name repeatedly on her lips. Sansa quickly leapt back out of sight.

"When does your shift end?" Harry asked the girl

"Midnight," the girl replied, rather breathlessly.

"You and Saffron can expect us at your place at 12:30 then. Until later, my dear Cissy."

Sansa rushed into the ladies room as she heard his footsteps come towards her corner. She stood with her back against the door and smiled ruefully. _You're always interested in the dirt bags, aren't you?_ she thought. _Wait, why did he say 'us'?_

When she finished, she went back to their table, back to the ever attentive Harry. It was difficult for Sansa to act like she hadn't seen anything but she made do. She couldn't wait for the night to be over though and she was pleased to see Margaery looking like she wanted it to end as well. Joffrey's lack of gentlemanly manners, mixed with his constant bragging and name-dropping, were getting annoying, even to the slightly braggy name-dropper Margaery. _Alright, I can use this_, Sansa thought hopefully.

Finally, the night came to an end. The boys took them home and left them with a promise to plan a night out for the next week. Harry was as gallant as ever, hopping out of the coach to offer his hand to Sansa and help her out. He bowed to kiss her hand and when he stood back up, he kissed her cheek, his wet lips lingering on her skin. It probably would have made her swoon a bit earlier, but not now. Joffrey stayed in the coach, busy checking the time on his watch. He quickly gave Margaery a peck on her hand before Harry helped her out. And then their coach flew off.

"Summon your driver," Sansa nearly commanded to Margaery as she watched the boys' coach drive away.

"Whatever for? It's late!" a shocked, but curious, Margaery asked and still rang for the driver.

"I have a hunch and I need to see it out." Sansa explained to her what she saw at the restaurant. She told her she thinks Joffrey is part of the "us" with the way he kept checking his watch on the coach ride to the Tyrell estate.

"Oh I don't think Joffrey would lower himself to such a scandal!" Margaery tried to protest, but there was something about her that seemed unsure about her own statement. "Well, I do have to admit I've heard some rumors of Harry spending time with some girls of ill repute," she almost mumbled a little ashamed.

_And you couldn't have told me that earlier, Marg? What if I was actually looking for a husband!_ Sansa thought, annoyed. "Well it's safe to assume I'm no longer interested in that."

"I'm sorry Sansa. It had only been rumors, and if the rumors were true, I'd hoped he would have settled down if you were to marry him." Margaery gave her a small smile, asking for forgiveness.

"It's okay, Margaery," Sansa said, giving her a reassuring smile back and reaching out to give her a hand a little squeeze.

"Okay. Let's do it. Let's see if Joffrey is involved. Wait here!" Margaery ran into the house and returned 5 minutes later with a young man in tow just as her coach pulled up.

"Sansa, this is my brother Loras. Loras, this is Sansa Stark."

"I've heard a lot about you from dear Marg," Loras said with a smile and kissed Sansa's hand. Sansa would have blushed at this contact and his handsomeness but Margaery already informed her of Loras' proclivities during one of their little sleep overs. They had quite a few cups of wine and Margaery had told her she would have loved Sansa as her sister-in-law, but she didn't want Sansa to be blindsided by Loras' want of his own gender.

"It's rather late, and an inappropriate and dangerous time for two young ladies of higher class walking the streets alone. It's a little more fitting for my brother to be with us," Margaery explained as they entered the coach.

"Plus, I love the scandal of what you're suggesting," Loras commented.

"I believe we should go to the back exit of the Iron Throne, wait for this Cissy to get off work and go home. Then we follow her to her place and see if Joffrey shows up with Harry."

"Genius. To the Iron Throne," Margaery said to the driver.

Sansa knew this was a very stalkerish plan. But if she was correct, if Joffrey was really going there with Harry, it could only help her plan to ween Margaery off of him.

They arrived just before midnight and just in time to find Cissy walking out of the back exit with another waitress, presumably Saffron. "That's her!" Sansa exclaimed. The three of them got out of the coach and followed down the street, a far enough distance away so their footsteps wouldn't be heard over the two waitress' excited chatter. Farther and farther down the street, they followed. The girls turned down a small street and Sansa peeked around the corner towards them. "Okay, they've gone into an apartment building down there," she whispered. They quietly made their way down that street and found a dark alley diagonally across from the ratty looking apartment building the girls disappeared into. Sansa looked over at the Tyrell siblings, looking completely out of place in the dark, dirty, dingy, damp alley and she let out a quiet laugh.

Loras checked his watch and at exactly 12:30, a coach pulled up to the building. Harry stepped out. And then Joffrey. Margaery gasped.

"Those gorgeous twats," Loras let out in a whisper and slowly shook his head side to side.

Sansa grabbed Margaery's hand and gave it a squeeze. After the boys disappeared into the building, the three of them made their way back to their own coach in silence.

"Maybe he'd change once we were married?" Margaery asked, breaking the silence when they began to drive off.

"And what if he doesn't? You deserve so much more than that, Margaery," Sansa said.

"I deserve to marry into such an entitled family."

"Don't just marry someone because it's expected of you. You will never be happy in that situation," Sansa said sternly. She finally found her way to break her from Joffrey, she didn't need Margaery making excuses for him.

"Yes, fuck expectations!" Loras exclaimed with a smile.

"Loras!" Margaery scolded. "And easy for you to say, you're quite comfortable ignoring the expectation for you marry some high born girl. With that and poor Willas passed away, it's on me to marry up."

"I could marry. If I found the...appropriate arrangement with my new wife," Loras said, suggestively winking at Sansa.

"Sorry, no, I demand to be the only person my husband sleeps with," Sansa responded with a wink back at him, making Loras and Margaery laugh.

They arrived back at the Tyrell estate, said goodnight to Loras, and retreated to Margaery's room.

"You're not angry with me for bringing this knowledge on you, right?" Sansa asked with a hopeful, small voice as they got into bed.

"No, of course not. I'm not happy with it, but it's something I must know before entering into anything with him. I need to know all aspects so I can prepare myself."

"You're still thinking of pursuing him?"

"I haven't made up my mind yet."

"You deserve better. I know he's handsome and his family is the grandest, richest family in Westeros and blah blah blah. I know you feel your family's expectations. But you deserve more. You deserve to be truly loved and cherished by a man that actually makes you happy. I could tell you weren't all that happy at dinner tonight, you were bored and Joffrey was annoying you. Can you imagine your whole life filled with that, on top of his philandering ways?"

"And you would suggest Dickon Tarly?" Margaery asked, one of her eyebrows cocked.

"I would, he seems to be the man that could love and cherish you, never cheat on you. But even if you weren't to pursue the idea of Dickon, you still deserve someone better than Joffrey."

"Hmmm," Margaery offered.

"Just think about it, Marg," Sansa whispered before they both fell asleep.


	6. touch me with your fingertips

**Chapter 6: touch me with your fingertips**

_(Chapter title taken from Lana Del Rey's Venice Bitch)_

* * *

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Sansa called out cheerfully as she entered the military recruitment office. Curious and somewhat surprised faces of the men in uniform greeted her.

Dickon lifted his head from the paperwork he was going over with one of his men. "It's good to see you, Sansa. Jon was just saying he thought he saw you walk by," he said while greeting her with a slight bow of his head towards her and then gesturing in Jon's direction. Sansa looked towards Jon near the window, finding him with a slight blush on his cheeks before he quickly turned back to what he was reading.

"I was just picking up a few more of the delicious lemon cakes next door and I figured I'd stop in and give you and Jon a little treat!" Sansa handed him a wrapped up lemon cake with a smile.

"Well, thank you! You seem rather chipper today," Dickon remarked with a laugh.

"I think I'm making headway on you-know-who," Sansa said with a wink.

"Really?" Dickon asked, hopeful.

"I believe so. Next time I hear from her, I hope to plan a lunch or something with you and Jon. You know, start small. I'll let you know when I get more details. Are your weekends free?"

"The weekends are usually free, just let me know. I will clear up anything that may stand in the way," Dickon replied with a barely contained grin.

With a sharp nod of her head, Sansa turned around with a smile and made her way to the door. Before she reached it, she made a slight detour and headed towards Jon's desk, placing another wrapped lemon cake in front of him. "And this one is for you," she said with a flirty smile. Jon could only look up at her and watch her walk back to the door.

"Would you like me to walk you back?" Jon's choked out slightly as she opened the door.

"No, no, get back to your work. I promise I'll be fine," Sansa replied sweetly and walked out.

"Alright, boys. Get back to work, stop trying to watch the pretty lady," Jon's muted voice called out behind the window as Sansa walked on and she smiled.

It had been two days since her stalker night out with Margaery and Loras and Sansa hadn't heard from Margaery since. She figured Margaery wanted to lay low with her wounded pride. _Hopefully I'll hear from her soon_, Sansa thought as she walked back to the Maiden's Inn. She found Gilly reading at her usual table out on the porch. No longer caring about the other ladies' gossiping, Sansa gracefully sat in the other chair at Gilly's little table, placing a wrapped lemon cake in front of each of them.

"What's this?" Gilly asked with a smile.

"Some of the best lemon cakes I have ever had. Try it, you'll love it."

"Thank you, Sansa! Is this from the bakery you're always mentioning?" Gilly asked as they each unwrapped the parchment paper from their own cakes.

"Yes. I plan on making this their biggest seller while I'm here!"

…

The week flew by and Sansa still hadn't heard from Margaery. She was actually becoming a bit worried. She didn't want to just barge in unwanted at the Tyrell estate, so she had decided to send a letter expressing her concern and hope to hear from her friend again. A few days after that, Sansa spotted Margery's coach pulling to a stop in front of the Maiden's Inn and soon there was a knock on her door.

"Sansa, dear!" Margaery called out when Sansa opened the door and they greeted each other with a light kiss on their cheeks.

"Hi, Margaery. Where have you been?" Sansa asked, stepping aside to let her into the room.

"Oh, just around and what not. How have you been this past week, dear?" Margaery asked, casually brushing aside Sansa's question.

"I ran into Dickon and his friend Jon again," Sansa ventured. Margaery sat on the bed and raised an eyebrow at her. It wasn't a look of annoyance at the mention of his name again, it was a look of curiosity. "I was thinking the four of us can have lunch together this weekend."

"Hmmm," Margaery hummed as she thought. "I don't see why not."

Sansa did her best to hide her excitement at the thought of finally getting Margery to give it a chance. "Perfect. Let's plan on Saturday. A picnic in the park?"

"That works. Now. I have come to collect you for dinner at my house tonight. I mentioned inviting you over and my grandmother was thrilled with the idea. She has definitely taken a shine to you, my dear," the brunette smiled. "Pack up a few things as well, I'll bring you home tomorrow after we do a bit of dress shopping!"

With Loras having gone back to High Garden, it was a ladies night for dinner. Olenna Tyrell regaled them with stories from her youth and she made sure the butler kept their wine glasses full.

Throughout the day and night, Margaery had been putting on a rather convincing air of ease and happiness. But now, after the wine and the late hour as she and Sansa climbed into the bed, that air was beginning to crack.

"I met up with Joffrey," Margaery's voice whispered into the darkness.

"What?" Sansa asked. She could see her planning take a backslide in her mind.

"I met up with Joffrey. I was stupid," Margaery stated, a little more audible than before.

"You're not stupid."

"Yes, I am. I talked myself into thinking I could look past any cheating he may do if I were with him. So I purposely ran into him a few days later and he invited me out to dinner. He took me back to the Red Keep that night. I stayed there over night."

"Did you - ?" Sansa wasn't quite sure how to broach the virginity topic in this era.

"Yes. And then he put me in a coach first thing the next morning and sent me home. I didn't hear from him after that. I ran into him again and he completely ignored me."

"I'm so sorry, Margaery," Sansa said softly. She reached out and found her friend's hand in the dark and gave it a squeeze.

"I thought, if I were to give him myself, it would help speed things along. It was stupid and desperate. That's why you haven't heard from me in over a week. I was going to spend time with Joffrey and I didn't want to disappoint you with that plan. And then it all failed and I curled up here in bed for days. Grandmother finally got me to get out of bed and talked me out of my depressing state. Then your letter came in, I was reminded that there are still people in this town that care about me, other than Grandmother, of course."

"I wouldn't have been disappointed in you, Margaery. I just know that you're worth so much more than that silly boy and I had hoped you'd see that too."

"I see it now. Thanks for being a friend, Sansa. All of my friends back home just tend to agree with whatever I say and have no minds of their own," Margaery said and Sansa could hear the smile in her voice.

"Did all of this change your mind about giving Dickon a chance?"

"Yes. I figured I might need the exact opposite of what Joffrey is and Dickon seems to be that. I told myself that if you were to broach the subject again, I should say yes."

Sansa hummed in agreement and then a few moments of silence passed.

"So…how was he?" Sansa whispered, conspiratorially.

"Not good," Margaery whispered back and a giggle burst out.

The next day, after buying a new dress each at Margaery's favorite dress store, Sansa was dropped back off at the Maiden's Inn with plans for Margaery to come by to pick her up that Saturday for their picnic in the park. As soon as she dropped off her belongings in her room, Sansa turned right back around and headed up the street to the bakery. Doing a mental count from when she had been in the recruitment center the previous week, she bought 12 lemon cakes from the very pleased baker. Once they were all packed up, she marched next door and into the recruitment center.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen!" Sansa called out as she entered.

"Hi, Sansa," Jon said, greeting her with a handsome smile from his desk.

"Hi, Jon," Sansa smiled back as Dickon came towards her.

"Hello! You seem rather chipper again, do I take it as that means you have good news?" Dickon asked.

"I do! Clear your plans for Saturday. We're having lunch in the park. Margaery and I will meet you there."

"Yes!" Dickon exclaimed, unable to hide his exuberance.

"You'll be able to make it, right, Jon?" Sansa hopefully asked, turning towards him.

"Of course." Jon's crooked smile made Sansa's stomach flip.

"I'll handle everything. Just meet us at, say, 11:30 in front of the statue of Aegon the Conqueror?" Dickon said.

"You sure? I can pick up food or something?" Sansa asked.

"No, please. I want to do this. I need to make an impression, Sansa!"

"Okay, okay," Sansa laughed. "I have also come bearing more treats today!" Sansa went across the office, placing the wrapped lemon cakes at each of the men's desks to a chorus of grateful 'thank you, ma'am'. She then handed one to Dickon and turned to Jon. When he took the dessert from her, their fingertips touched and lingered for a moment that seemed to stop time. Sansa thought she could feel sparks beneath her skin that touched his.

"Thank you, Sansa," Jon said softly, his voice bringing Sansa back to reality.

"Of course. And before you can ask, no, you do not need to walk me home," she said with a smile. "I'll be fine again, I promise. I'll see you on Saturday?"

"Definitely."

And with that, she spun around and left the building. As she walked away, she swore she could still feel faint sparks in her finger tips. _Stop it, Sansa. You're not going to be here very much longer hopefully. Why start up something you can't finish?_ she thought.

…

Saturday arrived and Sansa could feel a fresh nervousness in her tummy. She told herself that it was because of her hope that Margaery and Dickon could work out. And she sternly told herself it had nothing to do with Jon Snow, nope, no way.

Margaery came knocking on her door, and when she opened it, she was greeted by the brunette carrying two dress packages and a bag filled with makeup, hair products, shoes, and accessories galore.

"I've just come from picking up our dresses from the Golden Rose! I think I'll change into my new one," Margaery said, opening the package and holding it up against her body in the mirror.

"You know we're just going for lunch in the park, right?" Sansa asked with a laugh as she looked over everything Margaery brought with her.

"Of course I know, dear, but we always must make good impressions!" Margaery said cheerily.

Once they were all ready, they took Margaery's coach to the massive park in the middle of the city. Once they reached the southeast corner entrance, they exited the coach and walked through. As promised, Jon and Dickon stood beside the huge stone statue of Aegon, each wearing handsome weekend suits and each carrying a large basket.

"Miss Tyrell, it's so wonderful to see you again," Dickon said with a smile as Margaery held her hand out for him to kiss it. Sansa noticed that this time, Margaery didn't seem quite so reluctant at the contact.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Tarly."

"Will I ever get you to call me by my first name?" Dickon laughed as he held his arm out, in hopes that she would take it.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Dickon," Margaery smiled, looping her arm through his. Sansa could feel the joy radiating off of the man.

"Sansa." Jon greeted with a bow of his head.

"Jon." Sansa said, with a tiny curtsy.

They both let out a laugh and Jon offered his arm to her and she gladly took it.

"We think we have found the perfect spot for us," Dickon said as he and Margaery led the way. He took them down to the large pond and toward an inward curve along the edge of the water where a large tree stood and covered the area in shade.

Once at their spot, Jon grabbed a large blanket from his basket, unfolded it, and spread it across the lush grass. Dickon worked on displaying their array of lunch and nibbles while Jon unpacked their beverages. _This is like the perfect picnic from some romcom movie_, Sansa thought with a smile as she took in the spread. Dickon had gone all out with the food selections, even Margaery seemed to be a little impressed.

The four of them spent hours by the pond, slowly eating their way through the food as they talked and laughed. Sansa was pleased to see Margaery so at ease with Dickon, her usual haughtiness towards him gone.

"And lastly, dessert, courtesy of our Mr. Snow," Dickon declared as he pulled 4 little squares wrapped in brown parchment paper and tied with twine.

"Lemon cakes!" Sansa exclaimed happily.

"Yes, Jon insisted we go by the bakery to pick some up before we got here," Dickon said as he and Margaery opened their desserts.

Sansa looked over to Jon beside her, who seemed quite intent on unwrapping his own and determined to not look up as his cheeks filled with a bit of a blush. Sansa smiled and gently nudged his shoulder with her own, bringing a smile to Jon's lips as he continued concentrating on unwrapping his cake.

Once the desserts were devoured, crumbs included, Jon and Dickon packed up their baskets and they made their way through the park towards the entrance gate, arm in arm as before.

"This was such a beautiful day," Sansa said softly as she and Jon trailed behind the other two.

"It really was," Jon replied, looking over to her with a smile.

"Do you think something will come of those two?" Sansa asked, nodding her head in Margaery and Dickon's direction.

"It's a little early to tell," Jon laughed.

"I think it will," Sansa said, her voice hopeful with a twinge of melancholy. As much as she just wanted to go back home, go back to her own time, Sansa couldn't help but feel some sadness that she would be leaving these people behind. Margaery had become a friend, she and Gilly's friendship was newer but she could tell it would be a good one. Even Dickon, with his gentle kindness and earnestness for Margaery, would be missed. And then there was the man beside her. Throughout their day together, Sansa had warmed considerably to the idea of being with Jon. The more he looked at her with his soft smile, the more he blushed when he was embarrassed in front of her, the more her skin seemed to ignite under his gentle touches, it all felt just so good and comfortable and like something she needed.

_Focus, Sansa. Focus on what you're here for_, she thought to herself as they reached Margaery's coach.

"This is us. It was lovely to get to know you, Jon," Margaery smiled kindly towards him. Jon returned her smile with his own and a bow of his head. "Well, I have to say today was an absolute pleasure," she said as she turned back to Dickon.

"The pleasure was all mine, Miss Tyrell," Dickon said, kissing her hand once again.

"Old habits die hard and what not, but there's no need for pretentiousness on my part. Please, just call me Margaery," she said with a big smile. Sansa looked over at her approvingly.

"Margaery," Dickon said and offered his hand to help her into the coach.

Sansa could feel Jon unloop his arm from hers. She felt her hand ignite with those telltale sparks as his fingertips gently took a hold of hers. When she turned towards him, Jon brought her hand up to his lips. The sparks she felt under her skin at the touch of his soft lips was more like fireworks and it was now her turn to blush.

"Thank you for today, it really was perfect," she quietly said.

"You're welcome," Jon replied with a squeeze of her hand as he assisted her into the coach. The smile he gave her, a smile she could only categorize as smolderingly sexy, made her stomach flip again.

As their coach pulled away from the curb, Sansa and Margaery waved out the window towards them. _Well, maybe I could just have a little fun while I'm here_, Sansa thought with a wistful smile.


	7. the road is long, we carry on, try to---

**Chapter 7: the road is long, we carry on, try to have fun in the meantime**

_(Chapter title taken from Lana Del Rey's Born to Die)_

* * *

A knocking on her door woke Sansa on the following Monday morning. She rubbed at her eyes and straightened her cumbersome nightgown as she got out of bed and went to open the door.

"Good morning, sleepy head!" a bright and cheery Margaery exclaimed. "Sleeping in, are we?"

"I didn't get much sleep last night. Headache," Sansa lied. While she didn't sleep very well, it wasn't because of a headache. It was because her mind was running rampant with thoughts - Will Margaery come to accept Dickon as a real, possible love interest? Jon Snow. Home, aka her own time. Some more Jon. Will Margaery cave and run back to try again with Joffrey? Jon, again. Arya. Her parents. Finishing her "mission" and returning to her time. The very real possibility of missing Jon when she traveled back home.

"I'm sorry to hear that, dear. How are you feeling now? Do you need anything?"

"No, no. I'm fine now, just a little tired."

"Good, I'd like you're company today! Come sit," Margaery said, gesturing to the chair at Sansa's vanity.

Sansa did as she was told and Margaery took the hair brush that sat there to Sansa's long red hair and gently brushed it. "What have you planned for today?" Sansa asked, noticing Margaery's determined and excited smile.

"I had just thought I should show my gratitude to Dickon for planning such a nice picnic for us. Jon too, of course. So I figured we could bring them lunch today, if you'd like to join me. Please say you'll join me."

"Of course I'll join you. That's very sweet of you to think of doing that for Dickon," Sansa said, a crooked smile on her lips and one of her eyebrows hitched up as she looked at Margaery in the mirror.

"Oh hush, it's just to show gratitude, nothing more!" Margaery said while playfully swatting Sansa lightly on the arm with the back of the brush.

"Mmm hmm. Whatever you say, Margaery," Sansa said, her teasing smile still present.

"Really. It was fun and I admit he has an attractive way about him. But his station in life will just not do." Margaery's sudden, quiet seriousness did nothing to lift up Sansa's hopes.

_Maybe if she just spent more and more time with him, her stubborn high-born resolve will wear down_, Sansa thought. "Well, what's the harm in having some fun with a nice man?" Sansa asked.

"The harm is in hurting said nice man in the long run."

"You do care about him," Sansa ventured gently.

"No more talk of this!" Margaery said dismissively with a bright smile. "Time to get you dressed! You'll be seeing Mr. Jon Snow, after all!"

"Hey! Don't be turning this around on me! And I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, Sansa dear. It was plain as day. You're smitten with him," Margaery said with a smile as she pawed through the dresses in Sansa's wardrobe. "And he with you," she whispered conspiratorially. "Ah, this one will work wonderfully today!" she said, pulling out a pale yellow ensemble before Sansa could argue back.

They decided on the deli Sansa had eaten at with Jon during her first week there and once Sansa was dressed and ready, the ladies hopped in the coach and headed there.

"How many men have you seen working in their office?" Margaery asked as she perused the menu at the deli.

"Last time I was there, eleven total."

"Maybe we should get lunch for all of them? Do you think that would be nice?"

"Very," Sansa said, looking over at her with an approving smile. "I'm sure those hungry boys would appreciate it. And Dickon would appreciate the gesture."

After Margaery bought a plethora of different sandwiches (Sansa making sure there was enough of their famous pastrami she knew Jon liked) and a bunch of glass bottles of some old-timey carbonated beverages, it was all packaged up and put in the coach. There was enough to feed 20 men at least. Sansa smiled as she caught Margaery fidgeting with her dark hair, making sure it was all in place before they arrived. Sansa had the coach driver park in front of her favorite bakery and she dragged Margaery inside.

"So this is your version of heaven?" Margaery asked after Sansa ordered the little lemon cakes for everyone.

"Yes. Yes it is, in fact," Sansa replied with an unashamed smile.

"Your friend here has us making lemon cakes night and day to ensure we do not run out!" the baker said happily as he wrapped up their goodies.

"I finally had one the other day. It was quite delicious. I'll be bringing one of our extra ones to my grandmother, Olenna Tyrell, today."

"Oh, thank you, ma'am!" the old baker exclaimed and then beamed pridefully at Sansa.

With the desserts packaged, the ladies marched next door to the recruitment office. Sansa pulled the door open and entered, Margaery right behind her.

"Are those lemon cakes again?" an excited soldier, Corporal Tollett as Sansa learned the last time she visited, exclaimed when he saw her with the familiar brown packaging.

"Yes, sir, it is!" Sansa replied and then looked around for Jon. She spotted him at his desk and he gave her his warm, handsome smile.

"Sansa," Dickon greeted as he stood from his desk chair. Then he saw Margaery standing behind her. "Miss Ty-" a surprised Dickon began to say until Margaery gave him a playfully stern look. "Margaery, I mean. To what do we owe the honor?" he asked as he walked to them.

"We decided to bring you boys lunch to show our gratitude for the wonderful Saturday you planned! Now, if you could just let me borrow two of your men to help me bring it in?" Margaery asked, looking around the room at all the attentive faces.

"Edd, Grenn. Go help Miss Tyrell."

"This way, boys," Margaery said and led them out to the coach.

Sansa looked up at Dickon, his smile was beaming. "This was all her idea, you know," she said with a smirk. Sansa didn't think it was possible, but Dickon's smile grew even wider.

As his men brought in the boxes of sandwiches and beverages, Dickon cleared off his desk to make room for it all. As the men lined up to grab their lunch, Sansa snagged two pastrami sandwiches and went to Jon at his desk, hiding the sandwiches behind her back.

"Not hungry?" Sansa asked.

"Famished, just waiting for all the men to get theirs," Jon replied, his smile soft.

"Well, I cheated," she said, placing the sandwiches on his desk. "I didn't want the pastrami to run out before you got up there."

Jon's smile grew wider. "Thank you, Sansa." He got up, pulled over another chair from a nearby desk so Sansa could sit with him, and then grabbed two of the beverage bottles before he sat back down in his chair. He opened the cap of a bottle and handed it to Sansa. It was a carbonated lemonade concoction. "I figured that flavor would suit your lemony taste buds." Sansa tried it and found it to be rather tasty, less sweet than the lemonade she was used to but still good.

They each unwrapped a sandwich and dug in. Sansa spotted Margaery and Dickon enjoying their lunch together at another desk, comfortably laughing and smiling away with Margaery lightly touching Dickon's arm every now and then. Sansa smiled at the sight. When she turned back to Jon, she swore she caught him gazing at herself with his own wistful smile before he turned his attention back to finishing off his sandwich.

"So this was Margaery's idea? Maybe I judged her too harshly before," Jon said.

"I think this niceness has always been in her. I mean, she's been amazingly nice to me since the moment I met her. She just has a lot of family pride and expectations, a certain way she was raised, that has clouded her judgement and attitude. But I think that fog is lifting."

"Thanks to your help, I'm sure."

"I've tried. Truth is, I saw a lot of my own faults reflected through her. You actually helped me see it."

"Me?"

"Yes. That time we had dinner at the deli. You helped me see that I put too much stock in what other people may think of me. I realized I let that influence my attitude too much. I've worked on fixing that. I'll have you know that girl you suggested I be nice to, Gilly, she's actually a friend of mine now. And you helped me see that my parents and sister really mean well and don't mean to annoy and embarrass me." Sansa said, the proud smile on her lips faltered a little when she thought of her family. "I miss them now. Even Arya."

Jon's hand reached out and covered her hand on top of his desk. The sparks under her skin ignited yet again at the touch. "I'm sorry, Sansa. I didn't mean to make you sad. And I definitely wasn't trying to point out any flaws you think you had."

Sansa covered his hand with her other one and gave it a squeeze. "No, I'm sure you meant nothing bad by it at all! But your words were honest and they helped me see the way I was acting. And I'm so glad they did. So thank you for the help you didn't know you were giving me!"

"Well, I'm glad to be of service," Jon laughed.

"Alright, my dear, shall we head out and let these gentlemen get back to work?" Margaery asked as she and Dickon came to Jon's desk.

"Yes, of course," Sansa replied, untangling her hands from Jon's.

"We're thinking of going out to dinner this Saturday, the four of us again," Margaery informed her and Jon.

"I could try to get us a table at the Iron Throne?" Dickon offered.

"No, not that place. That place is old news. Let's go somewhere quieter. How about Visenya? I've heard wonderful reviews of their meals."

"Then Visenya it is," Dickon answered.

"I'm all in," Sansa said and looked expectantly at Jon.

"Sounds perfect," he replied, shooting her his smile that makes her stomach flip. Sansa and Margaery walked out and towards the coach. "Stop staring out the window and get back to work, men!" Jon's muffled voice called out from inside the office and the girls giggled.

Once in the safety of Margaery's coach, Sansa turned to her. "You still don't want to be seen with Dickon, do you?"

"Just - just not there. There are too many high born people there. Joffrey is always there. It would look like I've fallen down the social ladder to be seen with Dickon after Joffrey, I just can't bear to stand that in front of Joffrey yet," Margaery said quietly.

Sansa could see a bit of an embarrassed shame on her face at having to admit that. There was still a social war going on within Margaery._ I still have some more work to do_, Sansa thought and gave her friend a reassuring smile.

...

Late in the afternoon a couple days later, Sansa exited the bakery clutching a bag of lemon cakes. She found Jon standing outside the recruitment center, waiting for her.

"I saw you pass," he said with a sheepish smile when she reached him.

"I was going to stick my head in and say hi anyways," Sansa smiled.

"It's a little late in the day, can I walk you back to the inn?" Jon offered.

"Only if I'm not taking you away from anything important in there."

"I'm actually done for the day," Jon said, holding his arm out for her to take. "So, did you get a lemon cake urge so late in the day?"

"I'm having dinner at Margaery's tonight and I wanted to bring some to Olenna. She absolutely loved the one Margaery gave her after we brought you boys lunch," Sansa answered. _And I really wanted to see your face today_, she thought to herself.

They walked arm in arm, shoulder to shoulder, down the street, Jon telling her how work had been going and how the men in the recruitment center haven't stopped talking about her ever since she first stepped foot in the office.

"I have to say, they all have a bit of a crush on you. And now Margaery as well."

"Oh please, we're two women bringing them food. They'd have a crush on any woman who did that!" Sansa laughed.

"I'm sure it's more than that. Can't say I blame them," Jon said quietly.

Sansa looked over at him with a flirty smirk.

When they arrived at the Maiden's Inn, ladies were standing and sitting around on the porch, probably waiting for dinner to be called. Sansa could see Gilly, alone at her usual table and chair with her usual thick book. She could feel Jon slow at the sight of all the women.

"Is it appropriate for me to be walking you here with all of them out there to see?" he asked.

"Oh come on, silly!" Sansa exclaimed and pulled him along to the porch. All eyes were on them as she brought him up and towards Gilly, but Sansa didn't care. "Jon, I'd like you to meet my friend Gilly. Gilly, this is Jon."

"Hi, Jon, I've heard so much about you!" Gilly said, making Sansa's eyes go wide and cheeks blush.

"Oh really?" Jon asked playfully, looking rather intrigued.

"Alright, I have to go get ready to go to Margaery's," Sansa said hurriedly.

"I suppose I should head back to the barracks," Jon said. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Gilly."

"I guess I'll see you Saturday night, then?" Sansa asked as she walked him back off the porch.

"Saturday night," Jon repeated with a firm nod and a smile.

"Thanks for walking me back," Sansa said and leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek. The whispers up on the porch seemed to intensify. "Bye, Jon." Sansa walked back up the porch and to the entrance of the inn. She turned back around to find Jon gazing after her with a small smile that she returned and turned back to walk in. The girlish whispers she passed only made her let out a little laugh. She no longer cared what they were saying, she only found it funny that a kiss on the cheek in her own time wouldn't even earn a second glance from a bystander, let alone the excited tittering that followed her.

Sansa dressed for dinner and packed for an overnight stay at Tyrell Manor. The coach Margaery had sent arrived and she hopped in, finding it downright silly that the ladies were still talking about what they saw. Sansa made eye contact with Gilly as she walked by, rolling her eyes at them, making Gilly laugh, and they waved goodbye to one another.

Dinner was another ladies night with Olenna, who thanked Sansa profusely for bringing more lemon cake. After food, wine, and dessert, Margaery excused herself to get some beauty sleep.

Olenna guided Sansa into the sitting room. "I hope you don't mind in keeping an old lady company, dear. It makes me feel young again when I talk with you young women."

"Of course I don't mind, Olenna." Sansa still felt odd to be calling the matriarch of such a big family by her first name, but Olenna insisted when Sansa started to come over for dinners more and more.

"Tell me, how are things going with your love life, if I may be so bold?"

"I don't quite have a love life," Sansa laughed.

"You must be fibbing! A beauty like you with no suitors?"

"Well, I am pretty new around these parts. There was Harry Hardying, Margaery thought he could be a prospect for me. He was quite charming. However, I don't believe I'd be a happy wife for very long."

"Yes, Margaery tells me the rumors that surround him are true. A lot of girls would be okay with his wandering hands if they had a chance to marry him. Even Margaery would have been willing to give Joffrey a chance, that little shit." Sansa laughed at her bluntness. "What of this Jon fellow that is friends with Dickon Tarly?" Sansa smiled and blushed at the sound of Jon's name. "Ahhhh, you can't hide that he means something to you."

"He's sweet. And refreshingly honest. Everything that someone like Harry Hardying and Joffrey Baratheon isn't. Including his social status, or lack thereof."

"You seem rather different to the other young women I've known throughout my years. Social climbing and status do not mean much to you."

"They did, but I've learned to not care too much about it. All I want is happiness now, even if that sounds naively silly."

"Not silly dear. Smart. Having a broken and dying marriage would weigh heavily on you. A well known philandering husband brings embarrassment and shame. I do not want that for my only granddaughter. I'm glad this Joffrey business is done with."

"I'm glad too. Margaery deserves so much more than what that little twerp would bring her."

"Tell me of Dickon Tarly. I can tell her attraction to him has been growing."

"He loves her, truly loves her. Even when she didn't exactly treat him very nicely. I think he could make her happy. And I think she's started to see that. But he's not from a high born family and that weighs on her. I don't think she could bear letting down her family."

"Yes, the Tarlys. Not high born, but not low born either. They have always been loyal family friends to the Tyrells. Randyll, Dickon's father, is a bit terrible. Loyal to a fault and an accomplished leader of our military troops, but an asshole if I may say so. I'm happy to learn his son doesn't seem to be taking after him."

"Would you approve of such a man for Margaery?" Sansa asked with hope.

"If he makes her truly happy, I'd approve. My son, the dimwit he sometimes is, may have a problem with his lack of social status, but I'd be there to support her decision. Dickon has been making his way up the ranks within the army pretty fast I hear, that's always good. A high-up officer rank would be even better."

"Margaery fears what others may think of her and her family if they see her going from Joffrey to Dickon. I wish she could see that it wouldn't matter what others say if she's happy with him."

"Margaery has always put a lot on her shoulders when it comes to this family. I'll have a talk with her, try to help her ease her family burden. Now, off to bed with both of us, it's late!"

...

Saturday arrived and Sansa was busy perusing the racks of clothes in Margaery's closet.

"If I may make a suggestion, dear, dark green looks the absolute best on you," Margaery called out from her vanity as she applied makeup. After a few minutes, Sansa came out of the closet wearing one of Margaery's emerald dresses. "Ravishing," the brunette smiled.

"Are you excited for tonight?"

"I believe I am!" Margaery smiled again. "Grandmother and I had a talk. She's made me see that maybe I don't need such a high born man. You know, if he's worth it."

"I agree. If he makes you happy, that should be what truly matters. Now, let's go see if this one makes you happy!"

The girls arrived at the restaurant, Jon and Dickon already there, waiting to help them out of the coach.

"Good evening," Jon said, giving Sansa that devastatingly handsome smile as he took her hand to help her down. "You look beautiful," he whispered in her ear as she looped her arm in his. It sent shivers down her spine.

"And you're looking quite handsome yourself," Sansa whispered back.

They were led to their table and Jon pulled out Sansa's chair for her while Dickon got Margaery's. Sansa could see the little pleased smile on her friend's face and figured Margaery noticed the improvement over the unchivalrous Joffrey.

Their dinner was great but went by too quickly for Sansa's taste. Even though it was already pretty late, she didn't want her night with Jon to end.

"What if we went down to the shore?" Sansa suggested as the four walked out of the restaurant.

"Sounds like fun!" Margaery's said, her eyes brightening. "Come on, we'll take my coach!"

_Maybe she doesn't want the night to end either_, Sansa thought with a smile. Jon took her hand and helped her up into the coach, his now patented sexy smile making her stomach flip again. The fit was a little tight with the four of them in there but Sansa wasn't about to complain about her physical closeness to Jon. The sides of their arms pressed close together, their legs brushing against each other. _You're both fully clothed, what are you getting yourself all riled up for?_ she thought.

They reached the shore and climbed out of the coach. After walking for a bit along the path next to the waterway, Sansa steered Jon to a bench facing the water for them to sit on.

"We're going to rest here, you two can keep on going," Sansa called out ahead to Margaery and Dickon. Margaery turned and gave her a mischievous smile that Sansa returned with a wink. She watched the handsome pair continue down the path. "I thought we could give them some privacy," she said to Jon.

"Good idea. Are you cold?" Jon asked.

"It's a bit brisk."

He took off his dinner jacket and draped it around Sansa's shoulders. As he settled back on the bench next to her, he gingerly placed his arm around her shoulders as well. When she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, he relaxed his arm and pulled her tighter to his side.

"A perfect night to match our perfect day in the park," Sansa said quietly as they looked out over the dark waters, listening to the soft crashing of small waves along the shore.

"I'm beginning to think any day spent with you is a perfect one," Jon whispered.

Sansa lifted her head from his shoulder and turned her face towards his. Her blue eyes met his, dark gray but bright. His lips quirked into a small, one sided smile for a moment before his hand reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb softly caressing it. The moment seemed to stand still until Sansa's hand wound into his soft black curls and her lips found their way to his.

Jon's kisses were gentle and soft while Sansa hungered for more. _You're a girl in the 1800s, you're supposed to take these kinds of things slowly. Slow down_, she thought. _But his lips. My god, his lips are so full and perfect._ The hunger started to build within her again. Slow Down!

Sansa restrained her kisses with all her might. A couple quiet moans escaped her lips from time to time. Jon's hands, now roaming in her hair and sliding up and down her arm under his jacket, would hold her tighter each time he heard her moan.

When they finally separated, he gave her a bashfully cute grin while running a hand through his hair. It made Sansa crash her lips into his again.

After some time, they could hear the other couple's voices as they made their way back to the bench. Jon and Sansa regretfully separated once again and straightened themselves out.

The coach took them to Jon and Dickon's base where their barracks were located. As Jon said goodbye to Sansa, he took her hand and kissed it once again. But this time, his eyes never left hers as he did it. As he looked up at her in such a way, it felt so incredibly sexual even though it was so innocent of an act. It left Sansa speechless with her mouth slightly open as he smiled his sexy smile and turned to walk away.

As the girls headed toward Tyrell Manor, Margaery turned to Sansa. "What was _that_ all about?" she asked excitedly.

"I don't know. It just felt really intense."

"So is he a good kisser?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Sansa said coyly.

"Oh please! I could see it on your face as plain as day! You two had been kissing. My guess is you two had been kissing since the moment Dickon and I walked away."

"Not exactly the moment you walked away, it took a minute or two," Sansa smiled. "And he's an amazing kisser."

Margaery grinned at her. "Dickon is going to take me out next weekend, just the two of us. I'm a little nervous."

"Don't be, you seem so comfortable with him, it shouldn't be any different if it's just you two alone. How did your alone time with him go tonight?" Sansa asked, one eyebrow raised.

"It was really sweet actually. He gave me his jacket and took my hand as we walked. When we stopped walking, he pointed out some constellations, Balerion the dragon, the great direwolf, the warrior, and some others. He told me I'm beautiful and kind. I told him he's wrong about the kind part but he wouldn't hear of it. He knew of the charity work I've done through the years and he told me I was kind to take a chance on someone like him. I kissed him." A smile spread on Margaery's face. "It was wonderful."

...

Two days later, Monday morning, Sansa laid awake in her bed. It was the one month mark of her arriving to this time. With having to keep up with appearances and constantly be on her toes in an unfamiliar time, the past month felt much longer than that. She was tired, she wanted to go home, she missed her family. But the thought of leaving hurt her. Of course she would miss the friends she had made.

A knock on the door disrupted her thoughts. Opening it, she found Gilly standing in front of her with a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

"I was just reading and having breakfast out on the porch when Jon came by. He asked me to give you these. It's so romantic!" Gilly gushed, handing over the bouquet.

"Thanks, Gilly. I'll be down to join you as soon as I get ready," Sansa said and closed the door. She filled a drinking glass with water and put the flowers in it.

And then there was Jon. Perfect Jon. Leaving him would be the worst part.

_What happened to just having fun?_ she thought as she admired the flowers.


	8. sometimes it feels like i've got a war--

**Chapter 8: sometimes it feels like i've got a war in my mind**

_(Chapter title taken from Lana Del Rey's Get Free)_

* * *

The day she received Jon's flowers, Sansa marched right up to the recruitment center and asked Jon to join her for lunch. Following lunch at their favorite deli, Jon took her to the bakery where he bought them lemon cakes. After finishing their desserts, they strolled back to the Maiden's Inn, arm in arm. They continued this same lunch date for the next couple of days. Each time, Jon would steal chaste little kisses from her whenever they were walking about. But he would never kiss her goodbye in front of her inn, thinking it was too inappropriate to do that in front of the women who knew who she was. All of his chaste kisses just left Sansa wanting more, and when he asked if he could take her out on Saturday, Sansa emphatically stated yes before he could finish the question.

_Why are you so ecstatic to move this further when you're just going to end up ghosting him?_ Sansa thought. _Shut up._

Instead of joining Jon for their fourth lunch date in a row, Sansa already had lunch plans with Margaery. As she and Margaery exited the inn to hop in the coach, Gilly came up the stairs of the porch, having just finished a lesson with her professor. As their paths were about to cross, Sansa noticed Gilly timidly duck her head, seemingly not wanting to embarrass Sansa by saying hello in front of Margaery.

_Oh, this will not do_, Sansa thought, her heart breaking for sweet Gilly. "Gilly! I'm so glad we've run into you! Margaery, I've been wanting to introduce you to Gilly here for some time now."

"Hi, Gilly. I'm Margaery," the pretty brunette greeted her with a big smile.

"Hi," Gilly said shyly. Sansa glanced around, the other occupants of the inn that were around them were eyeing Gilly jealously.

"Do you have lunch plans, dear?" Margaery asked.

"No. I was just going to eat a sandwich while studying."

"Well, then you must simply put off the studying for a few hours and come with us to lunch! Sansa has told me all about you and how sweet you are, so I've decided I must get to know you. We're heading to The Valeryian Tea Room, if you'll join us."

Sansa smiled at her friend, happy that she was branching out more. She then looked towards Gilly, awaiting her answer, her eyes wide and surprised.

"Of - of course!" Gilly replied after a moment of speechlessness.

As the three of them hopped in the coach, Sansa smiled at all the tittering of the jealous birds on the porch.

As they lunched, Gilly talked about her studious life, which Margaery seemed to be in awe of. Apparently it wasn't very common for women to reach such high levels of study in this day and age. However, throughout their meal, Sansa could sense a melancholy coming from Margaery. Every now and then, Margaery would seem to remember to act as her normal self, but after a little while, the somber feeling would float back through her.

After lunch, they dropped Gilly off at the inn so she could get started on her studying. Gilly was all big smiles as they said goodbye to her and Sansa watched her walk into the inn with her head held much higher than usual.

"That was nice of you to include Gilly," Sansa said with a smile as they were driven to Margaery's estate.

"Oh, it was nothing," Margaery replied, dismissing it like it was no big deal. But Sansa new it was a big deal to Gilly.

"Are you alright? You seemed a little sad at times during lunch."

"It's nothing," Margaery repeated, looking down at her lap.

Sansa gave her a doubtful look. "You can tell me," she said quietly, placing a hand on hers.

"Not here," Margaery mumbled, refusing to look at her.

When they arrived at the Tyrell estate and they were safely ensconced in her room, Margaery finally looked at her. The look she had was pitiful. "I'm late," she said in barely more than a whisper.

For a moment, Sansa's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but then the meaning of her reply quickly dawned on her. "How late?"

"A week."

"Joffrey didn't use protection?" Sansa whispered.

"No. He assured me it would be fine. I was a little drunk and, let's be honest, desperate to keep his interest."

"Well, this doesn't mean you're pregnant for sure," Sansa offered.

"Sansa, I don't think I've ever been late. This isn't a normal occurrence for me," Margaery doubtfully replied. Tears were rimming her red eyes as she looked up at Sansa.

"It's going to be okay. First things first, seeing a doctor to find out for sure."

"I don't trust the doctors here in King's Landing. I just know word would get around. Joffrey's mother would find out."

"Would it be better to make a trip back to High Garden to see your family doctor?"

"Yes. I'll need to tell Grandmother. She'll see right through me if I lie about it. She won't be happy. But she would help me keep it discrete."

"Do you think - if this is actually all happening - that Joffrey would have you, marry you, since you would be having his child?" Sansa knew she should be there for her friend, comfort her, support her. But the thought that his possible pregnancy could bring Margaery and Joffrey together made Sansa's mind fill with images of their eventual wedding day bombing.

"You know as well as I do that he would want nothing to do with me or a baby. It would be a scandal for him and his family," Margaery said with a very bitter smile.

"Would you tell him at all?"

"I don't know. And then there's sweet, innocent Dickon. This would kill him. He'd want nothing to do with me, I'd be soiled and ruined. I don't know what to do, Sansa," Margaery finished quietly, the tears streaming down her face.

"It'll be alright, we'll figure this out." Sansa pulled her friend into a hug and let her sob on her shoulder. This wasn't the first time she's dealt with a friend's pregnancy scare. For a moment, Sansa was taken back to when she was 17 and she held her crying best friend Jeyne Poole as she sobbed, thinking she was pregnant with Theon Greyjoy's baby. Jeyne luckily ended up not being pregnant and Sansa prayed that Margaery wasn't either.

"Thank you for not judging me," Margaery said through sobs. "This is why I asked you to come over and stay tonight. You've been so helpful and kind since I met you. And I need your strength when I tell Grandmother tonight."

"Of course, Margaery. And of course I wouldn't judge you."

After a few minutes, Margaery pulled away and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

"Dickon is supposed to be taking me out to dinner on Saturday night. Do I cancel it?"

"Do you want to cancel it?"

"No. I don't think I do. I want to see him. But I'm afraid he'll be able to tell that something is wrong, like you did at lunch. And I just feel horrible stringing him along like nothing is wrong."

"You want to see him. Don't cancel and do your best to act normal. If he senses something is bothering you, tell him you don't feel well," Sansa suggested. Margaery nodded as she listened. "You know, I have a strong feeling Dickon would stay by you even if you really are pregnant with Joffrey's child."

"You think so?" Margaery asked, hope in her voice.

"Yeah, I really do. He's just so taken by you that he would do anything for you. He's the type of man that would care for that child like it was his own."

The thought brought a tiny smile to Margaery's tear-stained face.

After dinner that night, Margaery and Sansa sat with Olenna in the sitting room. The Tyrell matriarch's wise eyes could see there was something bothering her granddaughter and once they were in the privacy of the sitting room, she turned to her. "Out with it, child," Olenna pried gently.

The conversation went well enough. Olenna saved Margaery from any disappointed looks and just lightly held her granddaughter's hand. Once Margaery was done with the whole story, Olenna nodded her head firmly.

"You were smart to not want to trust King's Landing doctors. Cersei is on a lot of hospital boards here, she would find out, and spin cruel rumors about you to shield Joffrey from any possible blame. We will make a trip back to High Garden, I'll claim I need to see my doctors in my old age and you're going to be keeping me company. We can trust our doctors."

"Yes, Grandmother."

"It will be fine, dear. You have me and your friend Sansa here to help you through this."

Margaery looked from her grandmother to Sansa, both gave her reassuring smiles.

…

Saturday arrived, and while Sansa hoped Margaery's date with Dickon would go well, her mind was firmly focused on her own date with Jon. As she got herself ready, she smiled at the thought of kissing him again. And not the chaste kind of kisses they've shared this week while they were on busy streets. The thought of leaving to go back home crept in as did the thought of leaving behind whatever she and Jon were starting. _Why are you starting something that you can't finish?_ she sullenly thought. _Not only is it going to be hard to leave him behind, but he could be hurt by your sudden disappearance._

Sansa shook off the thoughts, determined to have a good time with Jon that night. Once she was ready, and after checking her reflection ten more times, she walked out to the porch at 6:00. Jon stood at the bottom of the porch's stairs, looking handsome as he waited for her.

"You look beautiful, Sansa," Jon said as she joined him at his side and he offered his arm.

"Thank you," Sansa smiled at him. "I hope you weren't waiting long."

"Only a few minutes. I don't know how you deal with all the whispering those ladies do on the porch, it's quite unnerving."

"After a while, I was able to ignore it," Sansa laughed. "So where to?"

"We'll be hopping on the cable car to The Wall, it's along the shore by the sea wall. Hence the restaurant's name," Jon said in a nervous babble that made Sansa giggle.

Once they reached the cable car, Jon jumped on, offered his hand to Sansa, and pulled her on and into his arms, his lips finding hers. When they reached the shore, Jon helped her off and they took a walk along the waterway towards the restaurant. Sansa thought of the previous Saturday night as they sat on the bench, kissing in the dark. She couldn't wait for it to get dark and to have the cover of night to share some less-restrained kisses.

Throughout dinner, Jon would reach over the table to cradle her hand in his. His dark, but soft, gray eyes earnestly gazing at her over the candlelight in the middle of them. All he wanted was to know more about her and her life. Sansa's mind moved a mile a minute as she thought of things she could say, which wasn't easy considering she couldn't talk of her current modern life with her higher education including a masters degree and her new job at a marketing firm. Having to be vague about her family and her childhood, her 1884 life wasn't much of a help either since her days usually only consisted of hanging out with Margaery and making sure her little "mission" stayed on course. But Sansa had always been a quick thinker so she made do. Whenever she got stuck, she asked more about Jon's life. He shared more about his home in Molestown, his childhood friends, and his military career, starting at Fort Black and then when he was sent to King's Landing for recruiting, which was apparently going well.

After dinner, they took the cable car to the park. As they strolled along a path, they came across a large statue of Florian and Jonquil. As Sansa marveled at the marble version of her favorite childhood fairytale, Jon walked away for a few moments.

"I used to pretend I was Jonquil when I was a little girl," Sansa said wistfully when she felt Jon come back to her side.

Jon handed Sansa a blue winter rose he had just bought from an old woman selling them underneath a nearby lamplight. Sansa blushed and sniffed it while looking up at him. Jon's lips spread into his adorable crooked smile. "May I be your Florian?"

"Yes," Sansa answered, her smile glowing.

Jon reached out, grabbing her waist, and pulled her into his chest. His soft, full lips lightly kissed the upturned corner of her mouth.

"Jon," Sansa whispered his name on her breath.

Jon's lips covered hers. Gone were the chaste kisses from their week of lunch dates. In the comfort of the dark park, these kisses were full of yearning. Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck, wishing and needing to be closer to him. When she opened her mouth, Jon's tongue pushed in, making a moan escape her lips.

"Are - are we moving too fast?" Jon breathed against her lips, interrupting their kiss.

"No," Sansa simply answered and went back to kissing him. Her mind, however, had other thoughts. _First of all, yes, it is too fast for a lady like you in this time_, she thought. _Secondly, what are you doing? This is getting more serious with him. You're going to break his heart along with your own._ The thoughts didn't slow her lips down though. The feel of him against her was just too good to stop. All she knew for sure was that the two of them together felt utterly right.

The walk back to the Maiden's Inn took longer than expected with the constant stopping to get a few kisses in. They finally reached the porch, thankfully empty with the other ladies either out on the town or in their rooms.

"Thank you for the wonderful night, Jon."

"Will I see you Monday for lunch?"

"Of course."

Jon took her hand lightly and brought it to his lips, kissing her skin while looking up at her. _Take me to bed_, Sansa thought.

"Good night, Sansa."

"Good night, Jon."

…

On Monday, as Jon and Sansa walked up to the Maiden's Inn after lunch, Sansa could see Margaery conversing with Gilly at her usual porch table. After Jon waved a greeting to Sansa's two friends, he turned to Sansa and kissed her hand before walking back to work.

"Well, aren't you two the cutest little love birds," Margaery teased.

"Oh you hush, I could say the same for you and Dickon. I didn't know you'd be coming over today, I hope you haven't been waiting too long for me?"

"Not long, and I've had lovely Gilly here to keep me company," Margaery said, smiling at Gilly. "Now, we should let our friend get back to her studies. Let's go upstairs and get you packed for the night. Grandmother and I would like to have you over for dinner."

"How did your night go with Dickon?" Sansa asked as they entered Sansa's room.

"Sweet and romantic."

"He didn't suspect anything was bothering you?"

"Oh he definitely did. All I could think of throughout the night was that I finally found a man who would treat me right and I would lose it all because of one desperate night with Joffrey. Dickon grew more concerned, he asked me a few times if I was alright. By the end of the night, we went back to the estate and as we walked through our rose garden, he asked me if everything was alright again. And I snapped and bluntly told him everything is certainly not alright."

"Oh no. Did you just tell him you weren't feeling well?"

"No. I was so mad at my own problem and so strangely irritated that Dickon was showing concern for me that I frankly don't deserve. Without thinking, I angrily blurted out that I'm probably pregnant with Joffrey's child."

"Oh my God. How did he take it?"

"He took my hand and had me sit next to him on a bench. He asked me if I loved Joffrey. I told him no, that I wouldn't even want to tell Joffrey I'm pregnant. He lifted my chin to make me look at him. He told me he loves me, that he's been in love with me for years. He told me that this news changes nothing for him. He would love me and any child I bore."

"Oh, Margaery," Sansa said, her eyes getting glassy with tears. "What did you say to him?"

Margaery let out a small laugh. "I told him I don't deserve him. He told me I deserve nothing less than the whole world. And then I kissed him. And kept kissing him. I couldn't even get the words out to tell him I love him."

"Do you love him?"

"I've never been in love. But I think I really do love him," Margaery answered with a dreamy smile.

At dinner that night, Olenna asked Sansa if she would like to accompany them on their short trip to High Garden later that week. Sansa enthusiastically agreed, having never been to High Garden. She would miss out on a couple of lunch dates with Jon and it did make her sad. _You need to take a break away from him anyways, girl. You're getting too close. Too serious too fast. He's not you're boyfriend. He can't be, you'll be leaving. You cannot fall in love_, her mind firmly told herself.

In Olenna's private sitting room after dinner, Margaery told her grandmother all about Dickon's reaction and his wish to be with her no matter what. Olenna nodded approvingly.

"I like this boy. He gives you the love and respect that you deserve."

"Grandmother, I don't deserve any of that from him, not after the way I've treated him through the years, and then adding my problem onto it."

"Don't ever think you don't deserve love and respect, child. He clearly loves you."

…

"I won't be able to meet for lunch for a few days. Margaery and Olenna are taking a quick trip to High Garden and asked me to accompany them," Sansa said a little sadly as she and Jon walked back to the inn after lunch the next day.

"I'll miss you," Jon said quietly, giving her one of his innocent kisses. "But I can't wait to hear about the trip when you get back, I've never been down there."

"You'll really miss me?" Sansa asked.

"Of course I will. Lunch with you is the highlight of my day. Will you be back by Saturday?" Jon asked as they came up to the inn.

"I believe so."

"May I take you out again Saturday night?"

"Of course, my Florian," Sansa replied, a smile forming on her lips.

"Goodbye until then, my Jonquil," Jon said, and kissed her hand.

As Sansa watched him walk away, a lovely fluttering feeling coursed through her body.

That afternoon, as she was beginning to pack for High Garden, an urgent knocking came at her door. When she opened it, a positively beaming Margaery bounded into the room.

"I'm not pregnant! It just turns out I was really late! I started today!" Margaery exclaimed and wrapped Sansa in a tight hug.

"Congratulations!" Sansa laughed.

"Grandmother knows. She's obviously more than happy. I'll be telling Dickon tomorrow night, I've invited him over to meet Grandmother. And to celebrate - well, secretly celebrate - this joyous news, I've made reservations at the Iron Throne for Saturday. I would, of course, love for you and Jon to join us."

"You want to go to the Iron Throne with them? Won't Joffrey more than likely be there?"

"I don't care if he's there or not. I don't care who sees. I am more than proud to have Dickon by my side in front of them all," Margaery said matter-of-factly.

…

The Iron Throne was as crowded as ever with their usual high class patrons that Saturday night. And when the four of them walked in, a few eyes definitely landed on Margaery. These people hadn't seen much of her since she was rebuffed by Joffrey about a month prior. To her credit, Margaery held her head high and looked unbothered by any stares or whispering that followed them. As they were guided to their table, Sansa could see they would be passing a table that consisted of Myrcella, Joffrey, a pretty blond by his side, and other friends. Sansa could also see Margaery pull herself closer to Dickon's side, a proud smile on her lips. As Dickon and Jon pulled out their chairs, Sansa risked a glance at Joffrey, his eyes narrowed angrily towards Margaery and her date.

"Hello, Margaery. Hi, Sansa." The pretty as always Myrcella had come to their table after they settled in. She had a bit of a sheepish look on her face. "I don't want to interrupt, I just really wanted to say hi to you ladies. And I really want to apologize to you, Margaery, for my brother. He could be quite mean, I know for a fact."

"Hello, dear! You're not interrupting and you definitely do not need to apologize for your brother. You've always been the sweetest thing," Margaery said, a sincere smile on her lips as she took the other girl's hand. "May I introduce you to our lovely dates? Dickon Tarly and Jon Snow, this is Miss Myrcella Baratheon."

"It's so nice to meet you," Myrcella said kindly.

"It's lovely to see you again, Myrcella," Sansa offered. Myrcella bent down to give her a hug and then Margaery before she went back to her table. Sansa could see Joffrey berating his sister for associating herself with them. Sansa wanted to punch him.

Besides a few lingering glances and whispers from people Sansa didn't know, their dinner went swimmingly. As they walked out of the restaurant, they ran straight into Harry Hardying, with another one of his flavor-of-the-week girls on his arm.

"Sansa?" Harry called after them as they exited. Sansa just smiled and leaned her head on Jon's shoulder as they walked into the night.

Margaery's coach took the four of them back to the estate. The two couples went their separate ways as they strolled through the rose garden in the dark, with only a nearly full moon to illuminate their way.

"I'm so happy I've met you," Jon whispered into the night as Sansa had stopped to smell roses of the prettiest lilac color. He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles.

"And I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you as my Florian," Sansa whispered back before Jon's lips took hers. There was more of a need, a want, a hunger in their kisses now. Growing impatient of just having his lips, Sansa's mouth eventually wandered, planting kisses along his jaw and down his neck. Jon groaned and held her tighter. Soon, his hand was wound into the hair at the nape of her neck and he was angling her neck so his lips could easily reach everywhere. Whenever he found the sensitive spots along her neck, especially one spot below her ear, she would let out whispered moans and he would assault that spot with his mouth and tongue over and over.

After a while, Margaery's voice called out from somewhere in the garden. "The coach driver has to take the boys back to their barracks now, dears."

"Dammit," Jon mumbled.

As Sansa laid in bed that night, listening to the impossibly delicate snores coming from Margaery, Sansa thought of Jon and was again filled with that fluttering sensation throughout her body. _Love. Is this love?_ she thought. She had never truly been in love before. Sure, the word had been thrown around in some of her past relationships. But she had always come to realize it was never actually love. But this - this was a new feeling that she had only ever felt with Jon.

Trying to fall asleep, a battle raged within her between her rational head and her romantic heart.

_It's love._

_No._

_Yes._

_You've only known him for a month and a half. You can't love him._

_That doesn't matter. This feeling I have for him can only be love._

_You cannot fall in love here._

_I'm in love._

_You idiot._

_I love Jon._


	9. feet don't fail me now, take me to the--

**Chapter 9: feet don't fail me now, take me to the finish line; oh my heart, it breaks every step that i take**

_(Chapter title taken from Lana Del Rey's Born to Die)_

* * *

Just over three months had gone by since Sansa arrived. It was now the start of a beautiful summer. She had gotten used to the stench of horse shit along the streets, for the most part. She had gotten used to the bustles and unfamiliar undergarments she had to wear. She had learned to tie her own bodice perfectly. All in all, Sansa was completely used to her life in 1884. It felt a little odd to be living out of the inn for so long, but half the time, she was staying with Margaery at the Tyrell manor anyways. Sansa spent her time shopping with Margaery, sitting with Gilly on the porch, and having lunch with Jon on his lunch breaks. Weekends were filled with dates with him, whether alone or with Margaery and Dickon.

Sansa was relieved to not have to worry and pay so much attention to Margaery's dating life now that she was completely in love with Dickon. Dickon's love and loyalty for her in the pregnancy scare brought her closer to him. She proudly walked arm in arm with him wherever they went. She told her family she wished to be with him and that he was the only man that deserved her. Her father, Mace, wasn't so keen on the idea since he wanted his daughter to eventually marry Joffrey. However, Olenna had a private discussion with him, and once that was finished, his mind was changed. To make their coupling slightly more fitting, it was insisted that Dickon be promoted to the next highest rank, from Sergeant to Lieutenant, with hope that it wouldn't take too long to rise to Captain. Dickon didn't much like being promoted for the sake of being included in the Tyrell family, he thought it wasn't fair and he hadn't deserved the promotion yet. But he knew it was the only way he'd be allowed to be with Margaery. And after his promotion ceremony, he got down on one knee and proposed to her. She said yes.

Ever since then, Sansa had felt a delicate pull within her every morning when she woke. It was a weird sensation but she knew what it was. It was the magnetic pull to that abandoned building that she had when she angrily stormed away from her family at the restaurant and walked down that old street. For a while, the feeling was subtle each morning and would disappear as she got up and readied for the day. However, this morning, the day of the engagement party, the pull was strong. It was calling her back to the building. Sansa tried to shake off the feeling as she got up and prepared for the day, but the pull never went away. It got stronger. She went down to have breakfast with Gilly and it still gained in strength.

"Are you alright, Sansa?" Gilly asked, concern in her knitted brow. "You look a little pale and you don't seem present right now."

"I'm fine, don't worry. I just remembered an appointment I have today," she replied, placing a reassuring smile on her face.

Sansa hurried with breakfast and started heading in the direction of the abandoned building. _Am I ready to go back?_ Sansa thought. _Do I want to go back?_

Eventually, she stood in front of the eerie building. Sansa somehow knew that even if she tried to stop herself from entering, she wouldn't be successful; the pull was so strong now. She reluctantly climbed the rickety staircase until she reached the third level. The door to room 304 was cracked open and that telltale colorful glow seeped out of it. She pushed the door open to find Melisandre standing next to the fireplace.

"Hello, Sansa," she greeted solemnly.

"Hi. Did you need to see me? I could feel a pull to be brought here."

"The Lord of Light has seen that you've been successful with your task. He's been trying to bring you here. You may go home now."

Back when she arrived here, Sansa had thought she couldn't wait to hear those words. Now, those words just filled her with sadness.

"I understand. Would it be possible for me to stay just one more night? I would like to celebrate Margaery and Dickon's engagement that I had been working so hard on. I want to say goodbye to my friends. If that's possible?"

"Yes. One more night." Melisandre replied after a moment's silence, as if she was listening to someone else speak.

"Thank you. What should I tell them about why I have to go?"

"Your story has already been determined. You would have gotten a letter from your parents. Your family is on a trip over in Essos. You're father has gotten dangerously ill there and you have been summoned to be with them in Braavos."

"They would probably want to write to me, hoping I'd come back, at least for the wedding. What should I say?"

"Tell them you will write to inform them of your address as soon as you get settled there. However, your supposed ship to Essos will sink and you would be lost to them."

The thought of her friends, of Jon, believing that story brought tears to her eyes. "How sad."

"I know, child. However, we don't want them coming up to Winterfell in search of you just to find out you don't exist. It's better this way." The red woman put a comforting hand on Sansa's arm.

"I understand," Sansa whispered.

"Come back tomorrow morning, child."

Sansa nodded and walked out. It was finally time. She missed her family dreadfully. But the time had finally come to say goodbye to her new friends. And it would be time to say goodbye to Jon.

She had been spending so much time with him. She knew for a fact that she was in love with him now; it was an unspoken thing but she knew it. He was so gentle and kind. Strong and handsome. He cared for her feelings and wanted to make her happy, which was way more than she could say of any past boyfriends. He helped her see her family in a different light. He helped her see the coldness she carried when it came to people she thought were below her. Sansa knew nobody was perfect, but Jon Snow had to be pretty damn close to it. She had found her own love here, someone who she was pretty sure would end up proposing to her if given the time. And she would have been proud and happy to be his eventual wife. But she had to leave him and that lovely idea behind.

As Sansa and Gilly got ready for the engagement party, Gilly could still sense that something was wrong.

"Sansa, please tell me," Gilly asked.

"I received a letter from my mother. My family is over in Essos and my father has taken seriously ill. She wishes I come to Braavos right away. Just in case, she said."

"Oh, Sansa! I'm so sorry. Of course you must go, when do you plan to leave."

"I took care of arrangements to leave in the morning."

"Oh, that is quite soon. We'll all miss you here. Maybe your father will get over the sickness rapidly and you'd be able to join us back here in King's Landing after a short time." Gilly was hopeful in her offer.

"I hope so," Sansa smiled sadly at her.

Margaery had sent her coach to pick the two up, and as they walked out to it, the girls in the lobby and the porch whispered and gossiped jealously. Sansa didn't even notice anymore. On the ride to the Tyrell manor, Sansa mentally pepped herself up so she seemed normal and happy, instead of being full of sadness. She had to make her last night with them a good one.

The coach door was pulled open when they came to a stop at the door of the manor. Having arrived with Dickon earlier, Jon was waiting there, his dashing smile on his lips. He offered his hand to Gilly to assist her out of the coach. As Sansa held out her hand, pretending to be a rich and pretentious woman, he laughed and kissed her knuckles before helping her out.

"Hello, love," he said and she kissed his cheek.

The manor was full with party guests and Sansa looked around for the happy couple.

"I know. I lost him just as we arrived here. He got swallowed by the sea of well wishers," Jon said as they continued their search. They came across Olenna Tyrell who told them to enjoy the sunset in the rose garden and that she'd tell the lovebirds that they're out there. The Tyrell matriarch then began a conversation with Gilly, raving about how wonderful she found it that Gilly was pursuing higher education and discussing the importance of higher levels of education for women.

As she and Jon walked through the colorful rose beds, the sun casting an golden glow on them, Sansa couldn't get the words out to tell Jon of her departure. Instead of dwelling on those sad thoughts, she pulled Jon into a kiss. Soon, Margaery's voice could be heard calling out to her. When Sansa broke the kiss, Jon's brows furrowed slightly in a confused way, maybe sensing the sad neediness behind her kiss.

"We're over here, Margaery!" Sansa called out. Margaery and Dickon came around a large hedge and greeted them.

"Come, Sansa, I must have you meet some of my cousins. They've been dripping in jealousy since they began hearing about my friendship with you. They're afraid they've been replaced by you. I don't have the heart to tell them it's true," Margaery laughed as she pulled Sansa away from Jon. "We'll be right back, boys!" she called to them over her shoulder.

Once they were out of sight of Jon and Dickon, Sansa grabbed Margaery's hand and pulled her to a stop. "I need to tell you something before we get surrounded by people again."

"Oh dear. Do you think you're pregnant as well?" Margaery teased lightly, knowing that Sansa and Jon hadn't slept together yet.

"This is serious. I have to leave tomorrow morning," Sansa whispered.

Margaery's smile quickly turned into a confused frown. "Whatever do you mean, Sansa?"

"I received a letter. My family is on a trip in Braavos and Father fell seriously ill. My mother requested that I come at once."

Margaery grabbed Sansa's hand and squeezed it. "I'm so sorry, dear. Can I help you set up travel plans or anything?"

"No, thank you though. I set up everything today. I have to leave first thing in the morning though."

"Of course. I'm going to miss you, my dear. Please tell me you'll come back eventually? I would love to have you by my side at the wedding."

Sansa's heart broke a little at the request and the fact that she'd have to lie and that Margaery would soon come to learn that she died. "I certainly hope so. That's my plan."

"And you'll write while you're out there? Let me know how your father is fairing?"

"I'll write you as soon as I'm settled and let you know the address I could be found at."

"Good," her friend said with a sad smile. "I take it Jon doesn't know yet?"

"No. I don't know how I'm going to tell him."

"You'll find the words, dear."

"I'm so sorry, I feel like I'm putting a little damper on you and Dickon's wonderful night."

Margaery did her best to replace the sadness in the air with her cheeriness. "Oh, hush now! Don't you worry about that. And now I'm determined for you to have a spectacular last night here. Starting with you not having to meet my cousins. They're just jealous little ninnies and you can meet them at the wedding. You should spend some time with Jon. And you must take one of the guest rooms tonight. It'll be the one down the long hallway, it's the only room down there. No one will bother you there," Margaery said with a wink and wiggle of her brows before she began the walk back to the boys, leaving Sansa to follow after her. "Dickon, my sweet, let's go greet some more guests inside."

As the engaged couple made their way out of the garden, Jon took a seat on a stone bench, leading Sansa by the hand to sit on his lap. "Is everything alright?" he whispered in her ear.

"Of course," Sansa replied with her best reassuring smile. _Just tell him_, she thought. _Why can't I just pretend like everything is normal for a little bit longer?_

Jon's answering smile didn't look all that convinced, so Sansa pressed her lips to his to halt any other questions. It seemed to quell his curiosity and his tongue started to beg for entrance into her mouth. Sansa's hand slid into the inky curls at the nape of his neck and when Jon's hand began to slide it's way from her knee to her upper thigh, she gave his locks a little tug and moaned into his mouth. His hand continued to her waist and upward, painfully slowly. When she felt the light pressure of his hand along the underside of her breast, she deepened their kiss and could feel the hardness that was growing in Jon's pants. She moved, ever so slightly, on his lap and created a tiny bit of friction, Jon's other hand, behind her back, grasped at her dress.

"Mmmm, we should continue this later," Sansa whispered when she released his lips, afraid of how far she'd go with him out in the garden for anyone to come upon them.

"Later?" Jon asked in between the kisses he planted along her long neck.

"Later." Sansa smiled. Jon gave her a hungry look as she got off of his lap, like he was ready to pull her back and devour her. "Let's go celebrate the happy couple first."

Once inside, they waded through the guests until they made their way into the manor's crowded ballroom. A live band was set up in the corner and couples made use of the dance floor. Sansa glanced about. She spotted Gilly making the acquaintance of what she assumed was a Tarly or Tyrell relation, the young man handing her a drink. Loras was talking to a dapper young man at the bar. Margaery and Dickon spun around on the dance floor. Sansa turned to Jon, her eyes shining bright and her eyebrows raised in question.

"Dance? Oh, no, no. I'm not one to dance," Jon said, laughing.

"Please? For me?" Sansa pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," Jon grumbled. Sansa excitedly grasped his hand and pulled him through the crowd until they were next to Margaery and Dickon.

"I'm glad to see you've changed your mind about dancing, Snow," Dickon laughed.

"Yes, well, I can't say no to this one," Jon replied, warmly smiling at Sansa as he wrapped his arm around her waist and took her hand in his to lead her in the dance.

Jon spun her around on the dance floor for a while, Sansa's big emerald green gown spun around her. For not being one to dance, Sansa was pleased to find Jon not so bad at it. Another slow song began to be played. It sounded lovely and romantic, a love song for sure, but the tone of it carried a sad hint in Sansa's mind. She laid her head on his shoulder as they swayed, her head nuzzling into his neck.

"I love you."

The whispered sentiment was barely heard over the music but Sansa definitely heard him. Lifting her head up, she gazed into his storm gray eyes and smiled. "I love you," Sansa whispered back. Jon pressed his lips gently to hers. It was such a delicate kiss and it made Sansa's eyes glassy with tears that threatened to spill over. One single tear streamed down her cheek when Jon pulled away. His fingers ghosted over her cheek to wipe it away.

"Why the tears, love?"

"I'm just happy," Sansa said. It wasn't a lie, she truly was happy, and that's what made her so sad. _Now or never, girl_, she thought. "Could you wait by the bar for me? I'm going to say goodbye to Gilly and make sure she'll get home okay."

"Of course."

As Jon made his way towards the bar, Sansa went to find Gilly.

"Sansa! I was hoping to find you, I think I'll be heading back to the inn soon. Would you be coming with me?" Gilly asked when Sansa found her.

"No, I'll be staying the night here," Sansa smiled. "I'm not sure if I'll be seeing you tomorrow before I leave, though."

"Well, it's not goodbye forever, right?" Gilly said hopefully.

"Right. But in any case, I just wanted to tell you how happy I am that we became friends," Sansa said, pulling Gilly into a hug.

"I'm so glad to have you as a friend, Sansa. I hope your father recovers quickly and I look forward to when you come back!"

Gilly smiled and Sansa watched as she walked out the doors towards Maragery's coach.

"Sansa?"

Sansa turned around to find Dickon standing behind her. "I'm guessing you know?" Sansa asked with a sad smile.

"Margaery told me. I'm sad to see you go but I hope to see you for the wedding."

"That's my plan," Sansa replied, forcing a smile on her lips to cover her sadness.

"You've been such a good friend to Margaery. And I can't thank you enough for the help you've given in getting us together. I can honestly say that I don't think Margaery would have ever given me a chance without your help. Thank you, Sansa."

"Of course. I had a feeling you two belonged together. And I'm so glad it worked out. She's so happy with you. And you're such a good man for her," Sansa said, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

"Does he know?" Dickon asked, gesturing his head toward Jon at the bar.

"Not yet. I haven't found the words to tell him. I'm about to though."

Dickon nodded his head. "Well. I guess this is goodbye until you return. Have a safe trip, Sansa. And thank you." Dickon gave her a little bow and returned to Margaery's side.

_It's time_, Sansa thought and made her way to Jon. She took his hand and he followed her as she weaved through the crowd and slipped unseen up the stairs and into the living quarters of the manor. They traveled through the hallways until they reached a long one with the one bedroom at the very end of it.

"Are we allowed to be here?" Jon asked, unsure.

"Margaery told me we could stay in this room tonight," Sansa replied as she closed and locked the room's door behind them.

"'We', huh?" Jon asked suggestively as he grabbed Sansa's waist and spun her around to face him. He found Sansa's eyes near tears again. "Alright. Something's wrong. And don't tell me 'nothing' again, something has been bothering you all night. Please tell me, love."

"I have to leave tomorrow," Sansa quietly said, she couldn't even bring her eyes up to meet his.

"What?" Jon asked, his hands dropping to his sides.

Sansa walked towards the window and looked out over the rose garden. She told him the story she rehearsed over and over. She still didn't dare look at him, knowing she'd probably burst into tears if she did.

"And you're leaving tomorrow already?" Jon asked quietly.

"My mother asked me to come right away."

"Of course. I'm sorry, I'm being selfish."

"No, you're not. I wish I didn't have to leave you. I wish I could stay too," Sansa said, tears now streaming down her face.

"You should be with your family, you should be by your father's side. I hope and pray he gets better, Sansa. Will you come back here?"

"That's the plan," Sansa said softly. She hated these lies she had to tell him, she didn't want to lie to him ever.

"Turn around, love," Jon whispered.

Sansa could hear the pain in his voice and she knew she wouldn't want to see the pain on his face. But Jon's hand reached out to her, grabbing hers and giving it the most gentle pull. Sansa turned around, forcing her eyes up to his face. The pain was definitely there, but he was bravely trying to mask it with a gentle smile.

"I love you, Sansa."

Sansa nearly leapt into his arms. She kissed his cheek, his jaw, until her lips found his. Her tear stained face was wet but she didn't care. Her kisses were deep and seemed determined to drown out the sadness and replace it with just love. Her kisses never halting, Sansa slipped Jon's suit jacket off his shoulders and loosened his bow tie to pull it off. Once those were off, her nimble fingers attacked the buttons of his shirt, popping each open until she was able to open the crisp white fabric and slide it down his arms as well. Her fingers drifted down his well toned chest and abs as Jon's hands entangled themselves into her hair. He moved his lips to her neck, to that sensitive spot just below her ear, enjoying the sound of her gentle moan. Sansa's hands left Jon's skin so she could work at her dress' bow at the small of her back. Jon's fingers dashed to unbutton the long column of small buttons racing down her spine, all the while, his lips tasted her neck and collarbone. Finally, the dress felt loose enough to pull down.

"Are you sure, love?" Jon asked, finally breaking his lips away from her porcelain skin.

"Yes. I've never been more sure of anything," Sansa smiled in reply, sliding the dress off for him. His smile was wolfish and sexy as he untied her bodice and bustle. Finally, she was free from all the constraints and bare for him.

"You're so beautiful." Jon stood back and gazed in awe of her until she pulled him back against her.

His hands cradled her small waist as he slowly laid her down onto the bed with him hovering over her. His kisses were gentle and loving as his hand found her breast. She moaned at the feel of his rough, manly hand against her sensitive skin. His fingers teased her nipple to a peak, Sansa's back arching at the contact. Jon's lips trailed down her neck, a lingering kiss on her collarbone, and down to her other breast. As he glided his tongue on and around her nipple, he looked up at her, her mouth slightly parted and breath becoming more ragged.

"Do you like that?" Jon whispered.

"Yes. Yes," Sansa breathed. She moaned as he continued, eventually moving his mouth to the other breast.

As the pleasure grew, Sansa's hips slowly bucked towards him. Jon's hand grazed the smooth skin of her stomach and down her thigh. He reached her knee and dragged his fingers up the inside of her thigh as she opened her legs for him. When she felt his fingers gently drift over her wet center, she gasped and gripped the hair at the back of his neck.

"Yes," she whispered in ecstasy.

Jon's fingers pressed more firmly to her sensitive nub as he drew lazy circles on it. Sansa's hips bucked up at his hand, begging for more friction. He kissed his way down her stomach and down her thigh. As he began to kiss up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, he placed his palm fully on her wetness and she rocked against it, her hands gripping the bedding tight as he brought her closer to her peak. Suddenly, Sansa felt his hand leave her and just as she was about to groan in complaint, his mouth replaced it. The heat of his breath filled her with a fire she had never felt before as his tongue traced up her slit. Sansa's nails scraped his scalp as she drew her hand through his hair. Jon's tongue teased her at first, lightly dancing across all her sensitive parts. But then he licked into her fully and Sansa felt her body lift off the bed in rapture at the feel of it. It was a good thing the party was still loud and ongoing downstairs, because Sansa's efforts at keeping quiet were barely existent. Her hand grasped at his curls, simultaneously lightly pulling at them while also pushing his head harder towards her, driving his tongue deeper and deeper within her. Her moans and gasps of his name filled the room as he turned his concentration to her clit, licking and sucking it. That fire he filled her with burned hotter within her until she burst, coming apart on his mouth. Her body racked with residual trembles as she came back down from the orgasmic high and Jon kissed his way back up her body.

When his head was level with hers once again, a satisfied smile on his face and mouth glistening in the wetness he caused, Sansa attacked his lips with her own. She pushed him back to lay on the bed and she straddled him. She kissed down his neck and chest, using her tongue to taste his salty skin along the way. When she reached his pants, Sansa's fingers hurriedly unfastened them and slipped them down to his muscular thighs, freeing his hard member.

Sansa ghosted her fingers along the underside of his cock, listening to Jon's deep breaths. When she took a firm hold of the base and swirled her tongue around the tip, his breath cut short and he looked down on her with surprise in his eyes and mouth agape. Sansa smiled a small, teasing smile in response and then, ever so slowly, slid him into her mouth. The breath he let out as she did so was long and slow.

"Oh God, Sansa," Jon groaned low and deep.

Sansa's mouth picked up the pace as it slid up and down his shaft, mirroring her hand's movement at his base. She would alternate to a slower speed, twisting her mouth and hand. It seemed to drive him wild. When she took him as far as her throat was able to allow, Jon let out another ragged "Oh God."

Sansa slid her mouth off, sucking as she went, and released it with the sound of a pop, making Jon groan again. She climbed back up his body, straddling him once more.

"Make love to me, Jon," she whispered in his ear before taking a nibble at his earlobe.

Jon's strong hands gripped her waist, maneuvering her to lay back on the bed. He kicked his pants free from his legs and covered her body with his own. His lips kissed her sweetly, his hand cupping her face and his thumb caressing her cheek.

"You're sure about this?" he asked in a whisper.

Sansa looked into his stormy gray eyes and nodded before bringing his lips back to hers. She knew he probably thought he was taking her virginity. She hated the unspoken lie but knew it would be a much bigger deal in this time to say she's had boyfriends she's slept with before. And she knew he's probably worried about them not using protection. But it wasn't like she could just outright tell him she has an IUD in and how having sex isn't such a big deal in her time. Plus, she needed this - needed him - tonight.

"Love me, Jon," she repeated, unable to stop the need and desperate want in her voice.

Jon kissed her fiercely, easing his cock into her. The stretch she felt within her was achingly, but blissfully, slow. When he was fully seated within her, his head dipped down to the side of her head on the pillow; he stilled for a moment, a barely audible chant of "I love you's" landed on her ear.

Sansa cupped the side of his face with her hand and brought it back up to hover over hers. "I love you, Jon," Sansa whispered before reclaiming his lips.

Jon began to move, sliding out and back in slowly, noticing the enraptured but slightly pained face on Sansa.

"Is this okay?"

"Yes. You're just - a little big," she smiled. "Don't stop."

He gazed at her while he slowly pumped in and out. When that slight look of pain had vanished, his pace began to pick up. Soon enough, he was driving himself into her faster as her hips rocked up to meet him. Jon's hand pawed at her breast. Sansa grasped the back of his neck and whatever bedding she could get a hold of. That fire within her built back up. When Jon slowed his pace a little, this time nearly pulling all the way out and sliding all the way back in over and over, his hand moved to rub her very sensitive clit. That fire exploded within her once again, even more intensely than before. Her eyes rolled back and she let out his name in a wail. Jon held her tightly as she rode out the orgasm with him in her.

"I'm getting close, love," Jon whispered as her orgasmic shudders subsided.

Sansa's satisfied smile turned wicked. "Lay down."

Jon slid out of her and did as he was told, unable to look away from her seductive eyes. Sansa slid her mouth once again down his cock, reveling in the taste of herself and enjoying the groan Jon let out that was so low, it almost sounded like a growl. Almost immediately, his cum began to flow down her throat. She swallowed every drop of him and sucked his cock clean. When she looked back up at him, laying half dazed on the bed with a silly grin on his lips, Sansa smiled proudly.

"Come here," Jon said, holding out his arm. She laid down next to him and he pulled the covers over their worn out, naked bodies. He pulled her close to him, her back pressed against his chest, as his arm draped around her.

"Can I at least see you off tomorrow at the docks?" Jon asked quietly, the sadness seeping into his tone again.

"Of course, love. I won't be leaving until the afternoon." Sansa despised herself for the lie. But there would be no ship to take her across the sea to Essos. Only a dilapidated building where she'll disappear into the air.

Jon drifted off to sleep, whispering "I love you, Sansa" into her neck and brushing his lips gently against her skin.

Hours passed and Sansa couldn't sleep. The party had been over for quite some time, the manor seemed silent. She knew it was time and she dreaded it. Inching herself out of Jon's perfect arms, she got out of bed and silently redressed herself, pausing at any sound or move Jon made. She found a notepad and pen on the desk by the window. She scribbled out a note of farewell to Jon, placing it on the nightstand beside him. She hated leaving him like this, without his knowledge. But saying a final goodbye to him would break her. Bending down, her lips touched his temple lightly in a kiss. "I'll love you forever, Jon," Sansa whispered.

Exiting the bedroom and slowly shutting the door behind her, Sansa tiptoed her way through the silent hallways. She finally came upon Margaery's room and was happy to find it unlocked. Sitting at her friend's bedside, Sansa placed a hand on Margaery's arm and gave her a gentle shake. "Margaery? Wake up, please," Sansa pleaded in a whisper.

"Sansa? What's the matter, dear?" Margaery mumbled sleepily, rubbing at her eyes.

"I need to leave. Now."

Margaery nodded, understanding and got up. "I'll come down with you."

The two friends silently made their way down to the foyer, Margaery pulling at a tassel on the wall, notifying her coachman. When she turned back to Sansa, she found the redhead on the verge of tears.

"Now, dear. Let's not be too sad. This isn't goodbye forever," Margaery whispered, grabbing Sansa's hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"No, not forever," Sansa lied, a tear escaping her eye.

"I must thank you for your friendship, Sansa. It has meant the world to me. You've done so much to turn my life around and I owe all of my happiness to you. I look forward to having you as my maid of honor at the wedding you fought so hard for," Margaery said, a gentle laugh on her lips.

Sansa couldn't say a word, so she pulled Margaery into a tight hug.

"That'll be the coach," Margaery said when they heard hooves and wheels pull up outside the grand entry doors.

"Goodbye, Margaery," Sansa said, giving one last squeezing hug.

"Goodbye, my dear. Safe travels. And inform me of where I can write you as soon as you can."

Sansa nodded and smiled sadly at her before exiting the manor. The darkness was beginning to fade away to welcome the day. She thanked the coach driver for waking up so early for her. He gave her a sincere, warm smile as he helped her in.

She sat in silence in the coach, staring straight ahead. She never thought this day would arrive, but now it was here and she didn't want it. That magnetic pull to the abandoned building was strong in her again and she hated the feeling. When the coach came to a stop in front of the Maiden's Inn, he helped her out and she thanked him profusely again. Sansa went up the porch and acted as if she would enter the inn, but she watched at the coach left and as soon as it was out of sight, she turned to head to the abandoned building.

Each step she made toward her true home made her heart break just a little more. Her body felt heavy but her mind forced her feet onward. When she reached the building, the sun had begun to rise. As she stood in front of room 304, her heart felt like it was a shattered mess within her.

"Come in, child," Melisandre's voice called from the other side of the door. Sansa pushed it open and walked in. "The Lord of Light thanks you for what you've accomplished here."

Sansa just nodded sadly.

"You may now change into the clothing you arrived in, child."

Sansa silently walked into the bathroom, finding her modern day clothing folded neatly, her cell phone on top of them. "I know it's difficult to leave behind the attachments you've made," Melisandre said softly as Sansa dressed. "But you belong in your own time, Sansa."

"Why can't I just stay here? Live out my life here and then go back home when I'm old. Before I left my time, you had said only moments pass in my own time while I'm here, no matter how long my task would take. Why can't I grow old here and then travel back to my home and be young again, like I never disappeared?" Sansa's desperation to stay there with Jon shone through in her tone.

"I'm sorry, child, that wouldn't work. Yes, you would return to your time as the 25 year old woman who left it. However, your mind would have aged. Your mind would not revert back to when you were 25. It will retain all of it's memories and age. Living life over again with an 80 year old brain would take it's toll on you, and fast. The Lord of Light would not allow it for you. You belong with your family dear, you belong in your own time."

Sansa slowly nodded, the spark of hope within her snuffed out.

"It's time, child, come over to the fire. Your room at the inn was cleaned out over night. A story of your ship's demise will run in the newspaper next month. Your friends will find out and they will mourn for you dearly. But you've changed their lives for the better with your friendship. Especially that of Margaery Tyrell. And I hope you will always remember that."

Sansa stood by Melisandre, facing the colorful fire that fascinated her so long ago. It wasn't even that long, only three months had passed. But Sansa's mind was tired, way more tired than a usual three month span in her normal life.

With a gentle flick of Melisandre's hand, a spark flew out of the fire and floated towards her and grew into a small orb with the prettiest emerald green glow Sansa had ever seen.

"You remember the unhealthy color of Margaery's orb when you were first summoned to help?" Melisandre asked in barely more than a whisper. Sansa nodded slowly as she gazed at the glow. "This is her orb now. Healthy and beautiful. You did this," the red woman said with a kind smile. Sansa offered a small but sincere smile back. She suddenly felt proud.

Another swish of Melisandre's wrist and the orb flew back into the fire with another spark floating out of the hearth to replace it.

"This is yours, Sansa," Melisandre said softly.

Sansa stared, transfixed by the most stunning crystal blue she had ever seen. It was reminiscent of the blue of her eyes but she knew this iridescent hue was much more indescribably beautiful than that. "I thought you said the Lord of Light doesn't show people their own orbs?" Sansa said, unable to tear her eyes away from it.

"No, that was a bit of a lie. It was not shown to you before because it looked quite similar to Margaery's, a bit unhealthy."

"But I changed," Sansa whispered, a smile growing on her lips.

"Yes. You certainly have. And now that your task is complete and your orb is healthy and beautiful again, it's time you go home. Just reach out, touch the orb, and close your eyes."

The two shared a smile and Sansa obeyed.

When she opened her eyes again, she was completely alone. The room was dark. Outside the window, the sun was setting. _I'm home_.


	10. and let your memory dance in the---

**Chapter 10: and let your memory dance in the ballroom of my mind**

_(Chapter title taken from Lana Del Rey's 13 Beaches)_

* * *

Sansa stood in the empty, darkening room for a moment. The realization that she was back in her own time washed over her. It all felt so final but it all seemed so incomplete. _It's done_, she thought sadly.

Then, the need to see her family took over. Without another thought, her legs began carrying her out of the room and down the staircase, taking no care on the rickety steps. When she burst out onto the sidewalk, she took a deep breath in the open air. _Not the best smelling city in the world, but at least it no longer smells like horseshit_, Sansa smiled to herself. She walked briskly and did her best to dodge tourists. It got a little difficult once she reached the historic Sept church as sightseers marveled at the stained glass windows, now lit up in the twilight hour.

As she weaved her way through the people, something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Sansa came to a halt, her eyebrows furrowed, and she thought of what the Sept looked like when she was in her time. Then, she slowly turned her head to look at the object that caught her attention. The Sept still stood how Sansa remembered it. But now, the Great Sept of Baelor had an additional wing attached to it with it's very own bell tower. It was just as old and just as beautiful as the rest of the Sept. Before Sansa had left, the area had been a large rose garden. Now, it was the complete Sept, as it had been originally built. _No wedding bombing_, Sansa thought and allowed herself a small, prideful smile.

She reached her family's hotel, marched into the elevator, and went up to their floor. Sansa excitedly pounded on her parents' door until it swung open, Catelyn's face filled with worry.

"Sansa? What's wrong, honey? Did something happen?" Catelyn asked as Sansa quickly wrapped her arms around her in a crushing hug.

"No, nothing's wrong, Mom. I just missed you guys," Sansa replied, trying to keep the waterworks from her eyes.

"Missed us? It hasn't even been an hour since dinner," Ned laughed, standing up from a hotel armchair. Sansa released her mom and ran to her dad to throw her arms around his neck.

"I know, I know. I just miss you in general with me living down here and everything," Sansa covered. "And I really want to apologize for how I acted at dinner. I've been thinking about it for a while and I was completely out of line for calling the family 'humiliating' and storming out like that."

"I didn't know an hour was 'a while'," Ned teased with a smirk. He received a hush from his wife.

"I know now that you guys just care about me and want me to be safe. I shouldn't give you attitude for that. Dad, I promise you I won't walk around the city by myself at night and I'll stay aware of my surroundings. Mom, I know you think you're losing me since I decided to move here. But I promise you, you won't. You'll still be getting lots of calls and facetimes from me. I still need my mom."

"Oh, honey." Catelyn was near tears and pulled Sansa into another hug.

"We love you, Sans," Ned said softly and kissed the top of her head.

"On that note, I'm going to go to Arya's room and apologize."

That earned surprised looks from her parents. "You're going to apologize to your sister?" Ned asked.

"Yup. Don't worry about me heading home late. I'll just crash in her room. Well, if she'll let me," Sansa smiled. She waved goodbye to her shocked parents and left the room.

She passed the boys' room next door and came to Arya's next to theirs. When the door swung open, Arya's eyes moved into a suspicious glare.

"Yes?" Arya cautiously asked, seemingly preparing herself for another outburst from Sansa.

"Hi," Sansa replied sheepishly.

"Yes?" Arya repeated.

Sansa sighed. "Can I come in?"

Without erasing her suspicious glare, Arya stepped aside and opened the door wider for her.

"I wanted to apologize to you, Arya."

"Is this a trick?" Arya asked, taking a seat on the big bed.

"No. No tricks. I've realized I was wrong. I shouldn't have burst out like I did. I'm pretty sure I made a bigger scene doing that than you did with throwing your fries," Sansa said, offering Arya a smile.

Arya still looked suspicious but it was starting to fade. "What happened to you in the last hour?"

"Nothing," Sansa laughed. _A lot. Too much_, she thought. "I just had time to think it over."

"Well, I shouldn't exactly have been throwing my food and burping and what not."

"Yes, well, I shouldn't yell at you and storm out over it."

Arya pursed her lips to the side of her mouth and gave a slight nod. "Well, I'm sorry for bringing you to that point."

"I know we've never been super close," Sansa began to say.

Arya snorted. "Understatement of the century," she smiled and Sansa laughed.

"Even though we've never been close, I just want to tell you that I'm happy to have you as my sister. And if you ever want to come visit down here, you'll always be welcome at my place," Sansa said and Arya offered her a big, genuine smile. "Now, can you please give me a hug?" Sansa asked, her arms opening wide.

Arya stood up from the bed and entered Sansa's embrace. "Are you sure you didn't get hit by a car and get a concussion?"

Sansa laughed while she still held her sister in a tight hug. "I'm sure."

"And this hugging thing isn't going to be a regular occurrence, will it?"

"I'll take whatever hugs you're willing to give me."

After their talk, the girls got into bed and turned the tv to a funny movie. It wasn't long before Sansa's tired mind and body began to drift towards sleep. Thoughts of Jon started to creep into her mind. Before she completely dozed off, the sound of Arya's laughter at the movie brought her back to consciousness.

"Arya? Do you thing it's possible to be in love with someone who's dead?"

After a few moments of silence, Arya finally answered. "I'm not sure, Sans. Maybe. Probably."

Sansa sleepily nodded and let the sleep overtake her.

The next morning, Sansa shook Arya awake.

"I'm hungry, let's go get something to eat!"

Arya grumbled out a response that sounded like "fine".

Once dressed, the girls told their parents they'd see them later and then they took the elevator down.

"So. You're just gonna be a slob in your clothes from yesterday huh?" Arya teased as the elevator doors opened to the lobby.

"I really want to find this one place I've heard about. We can go to my apartment after so I can change," Sansa replied, smoothing out the t-shirt and jeans she had worn to dinner with her family, to the abandoned building, to 1884 before she changed into appropriate clothing. _Ugh, these clothes haven't even been washed in months, technically. Is it 'technically'? Does me fucking time traveling count?_ Sansa shook her head of the thoughts and focused on her mission.

She steered Arya a few blocks down from the hotel to Kings Street. Continuing up that very familiar street, Sansa thought of the old businesses that once resided in the place of the new shops. Some of the buildings still looked the same, some had been demolished and newer, more modern buildings took their place. But every now and then, they would pass a business Sansa remembered from 1884, still in existence, and it would make her smile.

As they neared their destination, a pang of sadness washed over Sansa as they came upon the army recruitment center. Even though it looked different and modernized, it was still there. It was still filled with army men, shuffling papers and talking to recruits. It made Sansa pause for a split second as they walked passed it.

"You okay?" Arya asked, concern written on her face.

"Yeah, just thought I saw someone I know in there but I was wrong," Sansa lied as she tore her eyes from the large window of the recruitment center. She set her face forward and her eyes found the sign she was hoping to find. The Street of Flour Bakery was still in business next door and the widest smile spread on Sansa's face. "We're here!"

"So what's so special about this place?"

"I've been told they have the best little lemon cakes ever," Sansa replied, entering the bakery. Some things had been moved around but the sweet smell was definitely similar to what she remembered.

"You and your lemon cakes," Arya mumbled with a roll of her eyes.

"Lemon cakes? Those are our specialty here!" an elderly woman behind the counter exclaimed when she heard their conversation.

"So I've been told," Sansa smiled.

"Very old family recipe. My grandfather told me our lemon cakes grew quite popular in the late 1800s and became our signature treat here," the little old lady told them.

Sansa wasn't sure if the Street of Flour Bakery existed in her time, before she left, or if it had been closed at some point between 1884 and then, but she liked to think she helped keep them in business by introducing everyone she knew in 1884 to the sweet. _Maybe I did more than just help Margaery_, she smiled at the thought. "My family is in town and I want them all to try it. We'll take 7!"

The baker excitedly got to work, packaging the lemon cakes. When she handed them over to Sansa, Sansa was thrilled to see them wrapped in the familiar brown parchment paper tied with twine.

"Come on, we'll eat ours at my place," Sansa told Arya as they exited the shop. She led them down Kings Street and came to the corner at Stormland Lane. Sansa glanced at the corner where the Maidens Inn once stood. In it's place was a very modern, ritzy hotel and Sansa sighed sadly at the sight. She missed seeing the porch, Gilly almost always reading on it, Jon sometimes waiting at the bottom of the steps for Sansa to come out. "Almost there," Sansa said, directing them up Stormland.

"You seem very - I don't know, thoughtful - today," Arya commented as Sansa unlocked the door to her apartment and let them in.

"What do you mean?"

"I dunno, just subdued. Like your head is full of thoughts and then you'd randomly pause and look at a building for a few seconds. And then there was that question you asked last night. That was pretty interesting and out of nowhere," Arya tried to explain.

"Oh, I've just been reading up on King's Landing history before you guys came into town. I was trying to think of and pick out old landmarks and stuff that still exist today," Sansa tried to cover. _Good to know that I can still think of excuses on the fly_, she thought. "And the question was just a silly one. I had met an older lady at my office the other day and she told me that she's still in love with someone who had passed away. She was pretty quirky. I had just remembered it and was curious to know your opinion."

"Ah, I see," Arya said, unwrapping the parchment from her lemon cake. Sansa couldn't quite tell if she had believed her story or not. "Well, what's your opinion?"

"I think you can be in love with someone who is dead," Sansa replied. _Long dead_, she thought sadly.

"Yeah. That's a pretty sad life though."

"True. A person may not be able to help it though."

A few moments of silence passed and Sansa bit into the lemon cake. _Same perfect recipe_, she thought happily. _At least I get to have one thing here from my life in 1884._

"This is pretty damn good, Sans!" Arya exclaimed as she scarfed down the rest of hers.

Sansa spent the rest of the weekend with her family. She and Robb showed them around town. The Starks took a walk in the park but Sansa made sure to stay away from the areas she frequented with Jon, not wanting to get weirdly emotional in front of her family since Arya already seemed to be questioning her antics. Sansa took Catelyn to The Golden Rose Dress Shop, after she searched for it on her phone and found it was still in business. The store now seemed to be geared towards middle aged ladies but she was happy to pick out a cute dress for her mom. When asked where they should go for dinner on their last night together, Sansa was quick to suggest the Iron Throne since she found out it still existed as well. She excitedly told them of the restaurant's history as the place to be seen for the higher class back in the day but was disappointed to find out they had replaced the throne-like chairs with normal, smooth, modern dinner chairs. The class system of the olden days was gone, but the restaurant was still filled with people who definitely looked like the old-money elite.

Once their weekend came to a close, Sansa and Robb said goodbye to their family. Arya wrapped Sansa in a rare hug.

"Thanks for hanging out with me this weekend," Arya mumbled into the hug.

"You better come back down here to visit soon," Sansa said.

"I will, I will."

"Aww, my girls," an already misty-eyed Catelyn remarked.

"Okay, let's stop before Mom cries," Arya said, letting go of Sansa and hopping into the car that was taking them to the airport.

Sansa hugged her little brothers goodbye and then got to her parents.

"Now, always remember you can come back home to visit at any time. And never hesitate to call," Catelyn said, grasping both Sansa and Robb in hugs.

"And be safe," Ned said pointedly towards Sansa.

"I will, Dad," Sansa smiled.

Sansa and Robb waved at the car as it drove their family away.

"Want me to walk you home?" Robb asked.

"Yes. Dad would kill both of us if you didn't," Sansa laughed.

Sansa went to bed early that night. Her mind and body were still tired from her trip in time and then being non-stop with her family. The silence and darkness of her bedroom surrounded her as she cocooned herself within her fluffy duvet cover. She forgot how much she missed her bed. Her mind drifted to thoughts of the last bed she was in before she left 1884. The bed she shared with Jon. _I wonder if a day will ever come when I don't think of him?_ she thought as she fell asleep.

* * *

Work kept her busy that next week. Since she was still new at the marketing firm, Sansa wanted to stay diligent and make a good impression. When she wasn't putting her whole heart into her work at the office, she was at home prepping for upcoming meetings before she went to sleep. Finally, the weekend was arriving and she got a call from Robb during her lunch break, which she ate at her desk while going over meeting notes.

"Hey! I know you've been wanting to meet some of my coworkers. A bunch of us are going out for happy hour once we're done for the day. You can come too, if you want. Not that I approve of you dating one of these assholes," Robb suggested when Sansa picked up the phone.

"Nah, thank you though. I have some research to do."

"On a Friday night? Leave your work for work hours, Sans," Robb said. "And it wasn't long ago that you had been begging me to introduce you to my, quote - 'hot, rich, lawyer friends'."

Sansa laughed at her old snobbishness. "Yeah, I realized I'm not so much in a rush to find someone to date."

"Well, as your big brother, that's good to hear. You sure you still don't wanna meet up for happy hour?"

"I'm positive. Let's have dinner soon though."

When Sansa got home that night, she changed into her comfiest pajamas, grabbed the Chinese take out she picked up, a drink, and her laptop. She then settled into the nest that was her bed, ready to do some research. It wasn't the research for work as Robb had thought, however. This research was personal and private. Sansa was determined to find out what happened to everyone she knew in 1884.

Sansa typed in "Jon Snow" into the search engine. Unfortunately, that name seemed pretty damn common. There were a lot of results, all random and none to match her Jon. She tried different search terms with it - 1880s, army, Molestown, Fort Black - but nothing of worth came up. Instead of getting discouraged, Sansa mentally put Jon to the side and set her sights on what became of Margaery.

Wanting to find something about their marriage, she typed in her married name of "Margaery Tarly", pressed enter, and nearly choked on her fried rice when she saw the search engine's results. Above the links and descriptions of multiple articles were images of a modern day young woman that looked so much like Margaery Tyrell. Margaery Tyrell with blond hair. Sansa's eyes skimmed the articles and she found this woman's name to be Margie Tarly. According to the articles, she was some popular blogger and influencer on Instagram apparently. Sansa's hand flew to her phone and opened Instagram, searching for Margie and found her with millions and millions of followers. She scrolled through each of her posts, marveling at the similarities between Margie and the Margaery she knew. Obviously, the hair was different, blond versus brunette. Their face shape wasn't exact and their eye color differed; where Margaery had soft brown eyes that matched her hair, Margie's was a light blue. With their similar names and their nearly identical appearance, Margie just had to be a descendant of Margaery and Dickon. _Their family line continued on_, Sansa thought happily. Other than articles written about Margie, Sansa could only find brief descriptions of Tyrell and Tarly family history through the ages, but nothing specifically of her friends.

Next was Gilly. Her search for "Gilly Craster" didn't bring any essential results though. So Sansa started her research on the Lord of Light. She found many articles on the old religion and it's beliefs but nothing mentioned helping others change or time travel in any form. However, fire priests and priestesses, always dressed in red, were mentioned as followers of the god. Melisandre, Sansa thought. Her next search on Melisandre came up empty but she wasn't surprised to not find anything about that mysterious woman.

Sansa grew sleepy as she laid in bed, clicking article after article about the Lord of Light, hoping for any hint about the process she went through. When she looked at the time and saw it was nearly 1 in the morning, she decided to call it a night and turned off her bedside lamp. With her guard down as she began to doze off, visions of Jon danced around in her mind.

The next morning, Sansa walked down to the public library. After getting instructions on how to work and search through the microfilm of the King's Landing Times newspaper from a librarian, Sansa got to work. She searched for Jon in the years after her departure but still failed to come up with anything consequential. _Don't lose hope, don't lose hope_, she repeated in her mind. _It's not like he was from a famous or historical family. It's obviously going to difficult to find anything_. The same went for Gilly.

Searching for Margaery and Dickon was a different story. First, Sansa read through their engagement announcement in the society pages. And then she nearly cried as she read the wedding announcement. The journalist who attended the nuptials described it as the society event of the year. High class names were listed, notably absent were the names Lannister and Baratheon. It supposedly was a grand and beautiful wedding with the gorgeous blushing bride and the dashing groom. There were a few articles about Margaery holding glamorous fundraisers for homeless women and another article of her and her grandmother championing the need for women's higher education. Eventually, Sansa found the birth announcement of their first child. Born to Margaery and (now) Captain Dickon Tarly, was a baby boy named Samwell. The announcement for the birth of their baby girl came a couple years later. Tears unabashedly streamed down Sansa's cheeks as she stared at their daughter's name. Sansa Tarly.

Once she recovered from that emotional punch to the gut, she decided to find out what had happened to the Baratheons and Lannisters. Sansa learned that Joffrey seemed to have fallen into disgrace after a high profile divorce from his wife due to his cheating ways that were so often caught by the gossip pages. And, apparently, rumors had been circulating that his mother Cersei was having a very sordid affair with her own twin brother. Whether those rumors were true or not, Cersei had ended up hiding from public view and was said to have taken up residence in her childhood home at Casterly Rock with said brother until she passed away. Sansa was happy to find sweet Myrcella had fallen in love with a young man from Dorne and she had escaped her family's dramatic turmoil to marry him and live down south.

Sansa aimlessly walked home that afternoon, not paying much attention to where she was heading. Before she knew it, she was at the southeast corner entrance to the park. _That's where Jon kissed my hand after our picnic_, Sansa remembered, looking at the spot by the sidewalk where Margaery's coach had been parked. She could almost faintly feel the fiery sparks under her skin that she had when his lips touched her hand. Sansa let her legs carry her through the park entrance. The Aegon the Conqueror statue came into view and Sansa imagined Jon standing there with Dickon as they waited for the girls. She continued her walk and found their picnic spot by the lake, still covered in shade from the old tree and the area now crowded with people. Sansa found an empty bench and took a seat, gazing out at their spot, the memories of their picnic playing out like a movie in her mind. After a bit, she stood and continued her walk. In the distance, further along the path, Sansa could see the statue. Something in her mind told her to turn around and go home, wanting to save her heart the pain the statue could bring. But she soldiered on until she came to a stop in front of the weathered granite. It was a little more dirty than when she last saw it, but Florian and Jonquil still looked as in love as ever. _My Florian_, Sansa thought sadly, her fingertips absentmindedly lightly tracing her lips at the memory of the kiss they shared in that spot. A teardrop slowly slid down her cheek as her attention turned to the young couple currently kissing on the opposite side of the statue from where she stood. It just made her eyes tear up more. She bitterly turned and walked away in the direction of home.

It was a fitful night of sleep for Sansa. The feeling of loss filled her. Memories of his lips, his fingertips, his inky curls, his eyes and the crinkles he'd get at the corner of them when he smiled seemed to haunt her. She tossed and turned throughout the night. When the sunlight started to stream through her window, Sansa woke with a desperate need to be with Jon consuming her.

Without a second thought, she climbed out of bed and dressed. Within five minutes, she was in her elevator. The sidewalks were still relatively uncrowded thanks to it still being early on a Sunday. Sansa made it to the narrow, old street in record time since there was no need to dodge slow tourists or get stuck behind huge walking tour groups. She walked up to the familiar abandoned building, glanced up at it's height, and barged into the front door.

Sansa was determined to plead and beg to Melisandre or the Lord of Light or whoever to give her the opportunity to go back to 1884. Back to Jon. She didn't care about the possibility of it messing with her mind whenever she would return back to her own time again. She didn't care if she was being stupid and making a horrible decision. If she were able to tell her mom about this, or even Arya, they would tell her Jon is just another man and they'd reassure her that she would find love again. But something within Sansa knew that wasn't right. It had felt so utterly correct to be with him. It was a feeling Sansa knew would never be repeated with some other man. Sure, she could probably fall in love with someone down the line, have a family, grow old. But it was different with Jon, the feeling was indescribable and so different. It was something that couldn't be replicated. And Sansa wanted it back, desperately.

Having sprinted up the derelict stairway, she found the door to room 304 closed, not creaked open with the colorful glow seeping out of it as she had found it before. As she reached up to turn the doorknob, part of her expected it to be locked. But the knob turned and Sansa slowly pushed her way into the room. It was completely empty, barren, void. No flames in the fireplace, no strange lady dressed in dark burgundy to match her hair. Sansa wasn't surprised to find it that way but it disappointed her nonetheless. _Maybe they can see that I'm waiting and she'll show up_, Sansa thought. She took a seat on the dusty floorboards opposite the equally dusty fireplace. And she sat. And she waited. For hours. Her stomach growled. Out of the window, she could see the sun hung high in the sky. It was lunchtime and she had already skipped breakfast in her attempt to get to her destination as quickly as possible.

"Please come back," Sansa whispered into the empty room. "Please help me."

Another thirty minutes went by and nothing had changed. Sansa finally stood and dusted off her rear. She walked out the door and slowly shut it behind her. _You've become crazy_, her mind sadly told her.

Feeling the need for actual modern day contact, she spent the rest of the day at Robb's and he made her dinner. Just as it had helped when their whole family was in town, the day with Robb helped keep Sansa's mind occupied and relatively free from memories of Jon. However, once alone and in her bed, they flooded back into her dreams as her defenses fell from the onslaught of much-needed sleep.

The next morning, Sansa got ready for work and left early. Even though it was out of the way, she made her way to the abandoned building. She entered room 304 and, finding it empty still, she made her way out and to work on time. For her lunch break, she yet again visited room 304. Yet again, it was empty and she left to pick up lunch. That afternoon, in a meeting about a client's new hair product and tools line, Sansa's boss had begun thinking aloud, about whether they should try to get someone famous in the marketing to make the client's line stand out and reach a bigger audience faster and who that famous person should be.

"Margie Tarly," Sansa offered. She was surprised to hear her own voice say it. All eyes in the conference room turned to her.

"She's that popular influencer right?" Brienne, Sansa's boss, asked.

"Yes, she has a few million followers on Instagram, has her own book, a lifestyle blog with a ton of followers. A lot of young women and little girls look up to her and she has beautiful hair; I was thinking she could be the right fit for the marketing campaign."

Brienne looked lost in her thoughts as Sansa finished talking. _Oh God, she thinks I'm a fool for suggesting an influencer, maybe she wants a real celebrity_, Sansa frantically thought. _Good job, Sans. Way to make your mark here_.

"I think that'll work out wonderfully," Brienne finally said, her head nodding in approval. "Sansa, I'm going to need you to get a hold of Margie Tarly. Introduce her to the products and see if she would work with us."

Sansa beamed at her.

After work, Sansa made another trip to room 304 and found nothing still. She sighed and traveled home.

Tuesday carried on the same. Before work, during lunch, and on her way home that afternoon, Sansa checked to see if Melisandre was back to no avail. Wednesday morning, still nothing. Lunch came and she rushed to check, still empty. Afterwards, she made her way to the Street of Flour Bakery. It was to be the meeting place for her and Margie. When she finally got through to Margie's "people", they told Sansa that Margie would be interested and told her to pick a place to meet. The bakery's name flew out of Sansa's mouth.

And that's where Sansa now sat, at one of their cute little tables by the window, two lemon cakes plated in the middle. Nerves coursed through Sansa's body, not over the fact that she'd be meeting someone famous in any minute, but because this was the closest she'd get to her own friend Margaery ever again. This was her blood, and in a weird way, Margie even existed partially due to the help Sansa had given Margaery and Dickon.

As Sansa was staring out the sunny window, daydreaming about what the Tyrell-Tarly wedding may have looked like, a bright and bubbly voice broke through to get her attention.

"Hi there! You must be Sansa. I'm Margie!" the blond, near-clone of Margaery said as she reached Sansa's table.

"Hi! Yes, I'm Sansa. It's so nice to meet you," Sansa said, standing and shaking Margie's extended hand. "Please, have a seat. I hope you don't mind, I've gotten us lemon cakes, they're basically my favorite food. But if you'd like anything else, just say it and I'll get it!"

"Oh, no! These lemon cakes are to die for. How did you know I love this bakery and their lemon cakes? Did my assistant tell you?" Margie asked with a sneaky smile.

"Actually, I didn't know! I've been in love with this place since I arrived in the city. Best lemon cakes I've ever tasted."

"My family has always frequented this bakery for as long as I can remember," Margie commented, happily licking the icing off her thumb. "So, tell me, where are you originally from?"

"Up north, a town called Winterfell," Sansa asked.

"Oh yeah, I can kind of hear your northern accent now!" Margie said. Gone was that slight feeling of shame she used to get of having come from the boring north, of having her northern accent; Sansa was now proud of all of it. "I went skiing near there a few years ago. It's beautiful up there."

"It really is," Sansa replied with a smile.

Sansa continued to tell her of Robb moving to King's Landing, how Sansa fell in love with it and became determined to move there as well. Margie told her how her family is originally from down in High Garden and that her parents moved them up to King's Landing when she and her brother were young. They had moved into the Tyrell manor. From Margie's story, Sansa learned that the manor had stayed in Margaery's line, sometimes as a vacation home to the following Tarly descendants who stayed in High Garden and sometimes an actual home to those who chose to move to King's Landing. Margie's parents still lived there, while her own apartment was in a tall building overlooking the park.

"But the manor is absolutely gorgeous. The rose gardens are heaven. You really must see it someday," Margie finished.

_Trust me, I know_, Sansa thought. "I believe I saw pictures of it some article somewhere."

"Yes, my mom loved showing it off to some home and garden and interior design magazines. She renovated it a bit, updating the kitchen and bathrooms, but still maintaining the traditional look of the house. She kept a lot of the original furniture and referred to old pictures from the late 1800s to make sure she wasn't changing it too much."

Sansa asked Margie how she got into blogging and when she started to gain a large following. Margie told her all about her every day life and how she decides on what to share with her followers. Margie asked Sansa about her marketing schooling, career, and life in Winterfell; Sansa was happy to finally not have to lie about it like she did in 1884. Their conversation flowed comfortably. _As comfortable as is did with Margaery_, Sansa thought to herself as she listened to Margie tell a story about a nightmare photoshoot she had to do recently.

"Well, as much as I would absolutely love to continue this bakery date of ours, I have a meeting at 3 I need to get ready for, and we haven't even talked business yet!" Margie said with a smile.

"Oh, God, of course!" Sansa exclaimed. "We are handling the marketing for Maiden Beauty's new hair product and tools line. We would absolutely love if you would be in the ad campaign for it." She pulled up the pretty floral bag that was sitting at her feet. "This is all the whole line. You'll find a blow dryer, curling wand, straightener, hair sprays, dry shampoos, styling cremes, and other products in there. We just ask you try them out for a little bit and let us know if you love it and would be willing to work with us! And I'm hoping you do, cuz I'm the one who suggested you to my boss. No pressure. Just sayin'," Sansa said with an obvious wink that made Margie laugh.

"I'll definitely try it out and let you know. But on another note, we really should meet up again! I've had a great time today. How about lunch on Friday?" Margie suggested, looking at her phone's calendar.

"That works for me!" Sansa answered.

"Great! See you then, Sansa!" Margie said, giving her a hug before she left. Sansa made her way back to the office, happy to find Margie just as pleasant as her very distant grandmother.

Sansa's routine of checking on room 304 didn't stop. She went back that afternoon, another three times on Thursday, Friday morning, and she had checked it again before her lunch with Margie. She met her at a popular new sushi restaurant Margie had suggested. Their lunch was filled with talking, laughter, and an incessant amount of young people wanting her autograph or a selfie.

"I'm so sorry, maybe I should have suggested a less crowded place," Margie said as the latest group of teens walked away from their table.

"It's alright," Sansa laughed. "This sushi is amazing anyways."

"Not to talk business on our non-work related lunch, but I've used some of the products and so far, I'm loving the line," Margie said, giving her hair a few pats. "I should be done testing everything by the end of the weekend. I have a feeling you'll be bringing some happy news to your boss come Monday morning."

Sansa beamed in response.

After lunch, they made plans for dinner Saturday night, Margie wanted to introduce her to a few of her friends. They said goodbye and Sansa headed back to work, careful to not happily yell out that Margie might do the ad campaign. Following a quick check at the abandoned building, Sansa headed home and began cooking dinner for her and Robb, who would be stopping by. As they ate, she told him about meeting Margie and hanging out with her. Robb responded with the dropping of his jaw.

"You're friends with Margie Tarly? She's so hot. I wouldn't mind an introduction," he said, his eyebrows wiggling. Sansa rolled her eyes at him.

Saturday morning, Sansa went for a run, passing by the abandoned building yet again. Empty yet again. _Tomorrow_, Sansa thought. _Tomorrow is the last day you're going to do this. If it's still empty, that's it. No more of this. Get on with your life._

Dinner went great with Margie and a few of her friends. Margie even hinted that she tried out more of the products and was still loving them.

Another restless night of sleep led to Sunday morning. Sansa planned to check for Melisandre three more times that day, but she dreaded it. She just knew that room would continue to remain empty but she was determined to stick with what she told herself - this would be the last day of checking that building for that strange woman with her strange fire and her strange god. And of course, it was empty during her morning run. It remained empty when she went out midday to buy some groceries. And now, late in the afternoon, Sansa climbed the staircase slowly; even though knowing what she'd find, there was a very minuscule spark of hope within her. She opened the door and that spark of hope was snuffed out - the room was darkening and just as empty as it was on all her previous attempts. Sansa sat on the floor, back against the wall, and let her tears flow. Her hopeful chance of getting back to Jon was gone. And even though she knew she would move on with her life, Sansa knew a part of her would always miss Jon and that would never go away. Once her tears stopped falling, she wiped her cheeks free of them and got up. Giving one last glance at the room, she closed the door and left.

That following Monday morning, she got the call from Margie and Sansa was able to share with her boss and the rest of the team that the influencer was coming on board for the ad campaign. The exaltation she got from the praise she received from Brienne almost took her mind off of Jon. Almost.

Sansa went about her week as normally as she could. No stopping at the abandoned building. No researching for Jon or her friends. It didn't stop the memories and thoughts of Jon from invading her mind every now and then, of course. Thursday rolled around and Robb talked Sansa into coming out for happy hour after work at the bar on the ground floor of his apartment building. Sansa sent a text over to Margie to see if she'd be available to join them. Margie responded back saying she had an appointment but she'd be there as soon as she could. Sansa decided to let it be a surprise for Robb so she didn't tell him, mainly because she wanted to see his stupidly shocked face when his little crush showed up.

A little over an hour into their happy hour, Margie's cheery voice rang through the crowded bar. "Sansa! I'm so sorry I'm late," she said, giving Sansa a side hug where she sat on her barstool. "And this must be your brother. I recognize you from some of Sansa's posts. Hi! I'm Margie!"

Sansa truly did enjoy the stupidly shocked face her brother wore. She stifled a laugh as she nudged her head towards Margie's outstretched hand that Robb had, so far, failed to take. Once he got the hint, he fumbled with his drink to lift his hand up to hers to shake it.

"Uh - Hi, I'm Robb, Sansa's brother," he managed to get out. Sansa just smiled and shook her head.

After talking, laughing, and quite a few drinks, it was time to call it a night since it was still a weeknight. While Robb made his way up to his own apartment, Margie led Sansa outside and to the curb.

"I'm obviously not letting you walk home tipsy at night. I have my driver here, he'll pull up any second now. We'll drop you off at your place, of course," a slightly drunk Margie firmly said.

"Thank you," Sansa said. _Over 130 years later and I'm still getting driven around by a Tyrell_, she laughed to herself as they climbed into the big black SUV. Sansa gave her apartment's address to the driver and settled in next to Margie.

"Okay. So you're brother's hot," Margie stated.

"Ew."

"Okay, we don't need to discuss your brother's hotness," the blond laughed.

"He's single," Sansa offered.

Margie's eyebrow perked up at the thought.

"You know, I don't know what it is, but there's something about you that makes it so easy to talk to and hang out with. With my line of work, I don't get that often. I have to be careful of people's intentions and I hardly ever let people get close. Most of my friends are the friends I've had for ages, before the blog, before Instagram. They're people I can trust with my friendship. And I'm pretty sure you're one of them."

Sansa smiled at her. "Thanks, Margaery - I mean Margie." _Damn alcohol making me slip, fuck_, Sansa thought.

"Wow, I only hear that name when I'm in trouble with my mom or grandma," Margie laughed. "Margaery Olenna Tarly!" she pretended to sternly exclaim with a wagging finger. "I was named after my, let's see - my great great great grandmother. Everyone has called me Margie since I can remember though. Unless I got in trouble."

"Ah, I see. My mom has a friend named Margaery so sometimes I think of her name when I hear yours," Sansa tried to cover. "Olenna? That's not a common name," she said quickly to change the subject.

"Yeah, most of the women in my family have the middle name Olenna. She was actually Margaery's grandmother. So, my great great great great great grandmother," Margie laughed, counting each "great" on her fingers. "She supposedly was this tough old cookie that knew how to get shit done. Supposedly her and Margaery fought for women's higher education to become more common place."

"Well that's really cool," Sansa replied, pretending to not know any of this information.

When they pulled up to Sansa's apartment building, she grabbed her belongings and climbed out of the car.

"I'm really glad fate brought us together, Sansa. It's always nice to gain a new friend," Margie smiled.

_Fate_, Sansa laughed in her head. "I'm really glad too, Margie."

"We'll make plans to hang out soon, k?"

"Of course. Thanks for the ride!" Sansa said, shut the car door, and headed inside.

A couple days later, her phone started ringing, Margie's name popping up on the screen.

"Hi! I have the best idea!" Margie exclaimed after Sansa picked up the phone. My grandparents are celebrating their 60th anniversary and my parents are throwing them this big party at their home. You should come! Come check out the house and the gardens I just had to brag about to you! Meet my family; I told them about you and they said they'd love to meet you!"

"Of course I'll go," Sansa said. Half of her was happy and excited to go back to the manor, to feel the closeness to her past life there. The other half of her knew the toll it would take on her and her emotions. "When is it?"

"Next Saturday."

"Dress code?"

"Fancy. If there's one thing my family knows how to do, it's that."

_Some things never change_, Sansa thought with a smile.

"You know what, come to my apartment tomorrow, I have tons of options for you to try on! I have section of just emerald green dresses and I think that would look amazing on you," Margie suggested.

_Some things truly never change_.

* * *

The Saturday of the Tarly anniversary party arrived. Sansa walked out to the sidewalk in front of her apartment building, her long red hair perfectly curled into loose waves, her makeup done, and wearing the gorgeous, slinky, silky emerald dress Margie let her borrow. When she had tried it on in her big closet and walked out to show Margie, the blond's hands went up in the hair and she shouted "yeeeeeessssss" multiple times. Margie had sent her driver to pick up Sansa to bring her to the party and he just pulled up as Sansa came out of the building. He opened the door for her and she got in, thinking she was reliving 1884 again as they drove towards the manor.

As the SUV entered the gates and began it's slow drive up the very long driveway, the manor came into view. Sansa had tried to prepare herself for this moment but that preparation didn't matter, the tears still welled in her eyes. By the time they pulled up to the massive entry doors, Sansa was able to get the tears in check and wipe away any evidence.

"You made it!" Margie yelled out by the doors as Sansa was helped out of the vehicle. "I'm so glad you came. Come on, let me show you the rose gardens before the sun completely sets."

Margie looped her arm through Sansa's and led her down to the gardens. Sansa was happy to see nothing had really changed. Sure, she assumed the rose bushes had to be replaced throughout the years, but their patterns and the archways were just like she remembered. Even the stone benches scattered along the garden seemed to be the same. Once the sun was nearly gone, the girls made their way inside. Sansa was introduced to Margie's parents, who were greeting each of their guests as each entered the manor. Sansa could see some features that resembled Dickon's in Margie's father's face and Margie's blond hair definitely came from her mother. Next was Margie's brother who was getting a drink at the bar.

"And this is my brother Samwell," Margie said teasingly, introducing him.

"Just Sam, please," he said quickly with a smile. It was hard to tell that these two were related, much less brother and sister. Where Margie was lithe and fair, Sam was more on the stout side with dark hair; where Margie's eyes had an alluring and secretive glint to them, Sam's were filled with plain kindness.

"Yes, us Tarly kids like to go by our nicknames. Sam here was named after my namesake's son, our great great grandfather. Obviously, our parents weren't all that original when naming us," Margie laughed.

After talking with Sam for a few minutes, Margie continued to lead Sansa through the ballroom and came to a stop in front of a darling elderly couple. "And these two cuties are the reason we're all gathered here tonight! I'd like to introduce you to my grandparents, Alan and Samantha Tarly. Grandpa, Grandma, this is my friend Sansa Stark."

"Happy anniversary! It's lovely to meet you," Sansa greeted.

"Sansa, eh?" Alan Tarly asked, his eyebrow rising on his forehead. "I don't often hear that name."

"Yes, it's typically a northern name. I'm originally from Winterfell."

"That is true, it is a northern name. But my grandfather's sister was named Sansa as well. I don't remember her much, she passed when I was still young. But I had always wondered where she had gotten her name from; it was so rare down here and it didn't seem to be a family name."

"That does sound familiar now," Margie commented.

"Is it terribly rude if I were to ask if there are pictures of her? I would love to see what this other Sansa looked like," Sansa asked with a curious smile.

"Of course, dear, just down the grand hallway that leads to the dining room," Samantha Tarly replied, her hand pointing out the way.

"I'll show you," Margie offered and led Sansa away. "My mom put these up during her renovation, finding frames that closely matched the originals for the ones that had not previously been hung. Even though she isn't a blood Tarly, she wanted to show the history of the family and the manor's previous owners. She had even found old ones in the attic for some of the Tyrells that had been here before the Tarly name was married in."

They reached the long, wide hallway. It looked like an art gallery to Sansa. The end they had entered into contained the most modern pictures. A portrait of Margie, her parents, and Sam. Her parent's wedding picture. A family portrait of Alan and Samantha Tarly with their son. Their wedding picture, from 60 years ago today. On and on the hallway went, on and on the framed portraits covered the walls, getting older with each step.

"And here is Samwell Tarly and his family. That's my grandpa's dad right there," Margie said, pointing to the teenage boy in the portrait before moving onto the next frame that held a smiling couple in wedding day attire. "And this is from Samwell's wedding."

_Hold yourself together. Hold yourself together_, Sansa mentally prepped. She knew what the next portrait would be and she needed to rein in her emotions.

The girls stepped up to the next frame. There sat Margaery, proud and proper, sitting straight backed in a chair. Dickon stood behind her, his hand resting on her shoulder and her hand affectionately covering his. On either side of them stood two teenagers; one was the younger version of Samwell, the other -

"Sansa." Sansa heard her own whisper come out of her mouth.

"Yup, that's Sansa. Pretty little thing, isn't she. Definitely takes after her mother. That's Margaery. And not only do I share her name, but I've been told all my life that I look like her. I didn't really believe everyone until they showed me an old photo album that had pictures of her."

"You definitely share a strong resemblance," Sansa commented. She stared at the perfect little family, her happy tears wanting to fill her eyes but she held them in check.

"And this is their wedding photo. It was the only one my mom could find," Margie said, moving onto the next one.

The sepia-toned photograph didn't just contain the happy newlyweds like all the other ones before it, this one had the whole wedding party in it. All standing unnaturally still for the camera, bridesmaids with their bouquets on the left, the groomsmen on the right, and Margaery and Dickon looking gorgeous in the middle.

"She looks absolutely stunning there, don't you think?" Margie asked.

"Completely," Sansa said with a smile. How she would have loved to be there on that day. She began scanning the groomsmen for Jon but none of the men, with the exception of Loras, looked familiar. Sansa felt so disappointed to not be able to look upon Jon again. _Maybe there were too many family members to fill the groomsmen spots and Jon was just a guest. Or maybe he got sent back to Fort Black_, she thought to herself.

Margie had already moved on to the next frame of Margaery and Loras with their parents. However, Sansa couldn't tear her eyes away from the wedding shot. She had just spotted a very familiar face within the line of bridesmaids. _Gilly_, Sansa thought, her lips curling into a smile. Her and Margaery continued their friendship, enough so that Gilly was even a part of the bridal party. Happiness swelled within Sansa as she studied the picture. She could hear Margie talking, but her voice seemed distant now.

"And this is Margaery's brother Loras. Family rumors say he was gay. Obviously that's no big deal now, but back then? It caused some drama, apparently. With him refusing to marry and their older brother Willas passing at a young age due to some sickness he had, it was all up to Margaery. It's why the Tyrell manor turned over to the Tarlys when she inherited it."

Somewhere, even more distant, came a voice calling out Margie's name. Sansa continued to be lost in the wedding picture.

"Margie, I'd like to introduce you to my friend."

Something in her mind told Sansa not to be rude, so she tore her eyes away from the picture and towards Sam and his guest that stood directly behind him. When Sam moved to the side to introduce them all, Sansa was able to get a full look at the friend.

And there he stood, with his inky curls, his full lips partially opened in disbelief, the crinkles on the outer corner of his eyes gone with his eyes being so wide like he just saw a ghost. And still as handsome as ever.

"Jon?" Sansa gasped.


	11. you're part of the past, but now---

**Chapter 11: you're part of the past, but now you're the future**

_(Chapter title taken from Lana Del Rey's Love)_

* * *

"Sansa?"

Jon's voice consumed her like a wave. The voice she had thought she'd never hear again. Her eyes took in the sight of Jon Snow standing in front of her, her ears took in the sound of his deep voice. But Sansa's mind felt blank, none of it was processing within her. She stood there, her brow furrowed and mouth slightly agape, the confusion plain on her face. The look upon Jon's face - the one that was as if he had just seen a ghost - seemed permanent at well.

_Jon? My Jon?_ The words rattled within her head.

Suddenly, Margie's voice cut through the haze.

"Hi, I'm Sam's sister Margie! You must be Jon. Sam's told me all about you. And this is my friend Sansa - but it seems like you two already know each other?" Margie turned to Sansa, her eyebrows lifted in question.

Sansa rapidly blinked a few times, trying to come to her senses. In her astonished state, she tried to offer a smile and a slight nod to Margie in response. It seemed to appease Margie, who put on a smooth grin.

"We'll just give you guys a moment to catch up then," the blond said, grabbing her brother's arm and leading him out of the hallway and back to the party.

Jon and Sansa stood across from one another, alone now. Neither of them seemed to be able to form a single word with their mouths as they studied each other. Finally, Jon was able to string a few together.

"Is it really you?"

Sansa nodded slowly. It was all she could do. Then, all at once, they flew into each others' arms, holding each other tightly.

"How?" It came out as more of a whispered breath from his mouth into her ear.

Voices started to get louder as some of the partygoers headed in their direction, with talk of wanting to see some famous piece of art that hung in the dining room. The sudden intrusion snapped Sansa out of her bewildered daze and she let go of him.

"Maybe we should go somewhere more private?" she suggested, finally finding her voice again. Jon nodded his agreement. Sansa instinctively reached down and took his hand, those tell-tale sparks igniting beneath his touch. For a moment, she looked down at their joined hands, marveling in the feel of it. She then turned, using her memory of the manor to quickly lead him down the rest of the hallway, into the dining room, through the kitchen, and out the kitchen's side door that emptied into the rose garden. Without dropping his hand, they continued walking deeper into the dark until they were far enough away from the manor, far enough away from the party noise, and far enough away from everyone. When they came to a stop, in a spot surrounded by white roses, Sansa turned to face him again. His gray eyes searched the crystal blue of hers. A late summer breeze gently moved her red locks and Jon's hand reached up, a red curl slid through his fingertips like silk.

"It's really you," Jon breathed, his fingers moving from her hair to her cheek, almost like they were testing the solidity of her appearance. His gentle touch lit a fire within Sansa, a fire she had only recently came to accept that she would never feel again.

"How are you here? Now?" she whispered.

It was like Jon couldn't hear her, he was so transfixed by the feel of her under his fingertips. "I thought you died." His words were barely audible and his eyes looked glassy with tears.

"I'm here," Sansa whispered back, pain filling her at the thought of the story of her supposed death, the story he obviously believed.

"But how? How are you back? How are you here?"

Sansa covered his hand on her cheek with her own, grasping it, and led him to an old stone bench to sit side by side. She continued to hold his hand, the thought of letting him go and losing his touch scared her now. _What if I let go and he just disappears, like this is all in my head?_

She turned to him, knowing she was about to sound crazy, but now sure he must share the same crazy story as her. "Jon, has anything - anything weird happen to you lately?"

"Yes," he replied slowly.

"Meet anyone that goes by the name Melisandre?"

Jon nodded.

"Um. Have you - traveled - through time?"

"You know?"

"Yeah. I did it too. Her and her Lord of Light sent me back there. To 1884. But this - this is _my_ own time."

"Did they send you there to help someone? Was it Margaery?" Jon asked. His hands held hers just as tightly as she held his, seemingly worried she'd disappear if he let go as well.

"It was Margaery. I was asked to help her change her attitude for the better, to try to keep her from marrying Joffrey Baratheon, and aim her in Dickon's direction." She offered him a small smile. "Who have you been sent to help? Sam?"

"What? No, I was sent for Dickon."

"You were sent to help Dickon? 1884 isn't _your_ time?" Sansa asked. Hope bloomed brightly within her, a hope she hadn't felt in a long time.

"No. I'm from - _now_ \- I guess you can say," Jon said. His crooked smile lifted his lips. "Like you."

Relief flooded Sansa's body. _He's not going to be sent back there once he finishes his task. This is his home. He belongs here_, she happily thought.

"One day, back in March, I went for a run in the park. On my way back to my apartment, something pulled me to this old, abandoned building. It was like a rope was attached to me and someone kept tugging at it until I reached the room where Melisandre was," Jon tried to explain. Sansa nodded along, knowing the feeling very well.

"Why were you sent to help Dickon though? He seemed like a really good guy."

"Melisandre told me that I needed to help him not become like his dad. You never met Randyll Tarly, did you? He was awful and a very cold man. Dickon looked up to his father and his military prowess and leadership abilities. But if he continued on his path of learning from his father, Dickon would eventually become as awful as Randyll was. And I was told to not discourage Dickon's love for Margaery Tyrell. Which was hard for me at first, considering how coolly she treated him then. And - I was told that Margaery would have a friend, a friend that may need help in trying to see her family in a better light, a friend that may need a bit of an attitude adjustment herself," Jon finished, looking down at their clasped hands, seeming to be wary of hurting Sansa's feelings.

Sansa smiled. "You did help me, Jon. I changed for the better and it helped me with Margaery. I didn't see my orb before the change, but I saw Margaery's and apparently mine looked pretty similar to hers, like dull and dirty dishwater. While Margaery's changed to green, mine became a crystalline blue."

"I was never shown yours. Dickon was my main task, I was only shown his and his dad's. Randyll's was a depressing shade of dark gray. Dickon's was a dim yellow at first, but it became something like sunshine by the time I was to come home."

"What was yours?" Sansa asked.

Jon's hand once again lifted to her hair, his fingers weaving into the ends of her curls as he gazed at it. "A beautiful orangey red."

Sansa felt her skin flush at his words. "So you left and came back in March?"

"March 9th, to be exact. What about you?"

"Just four weeks ago, August 2nd. I ran straight to my family. Gave them bone crushing hugs, apologized. Arya was definitely wondering what was going on with me," Sansa said, smiling at the memory.

"So everything has been going well with them and you?" Jon asked, his smile warm.

"Amazingly well so far. I text or talk to my mom nearly every day, my dad checks in every now and then and I no longer get annoyed at him for it. My brother Robb and I make sure to facetime them at least once a week. And Arya and I have never talked so much in our life. She even asked me for some advice about some boy back home," Sansa finished proudly.

"Good," Jon laughed.

"Sansa?" Margie's voice called out in the darkness. "Are you out here?" She was getting closer.

"This party probably isn't the best place to be discussing what we experienced," Sansa whispered with a smile.

"No, probably not," Jon smirked back.

"Over here, Margie!" Sansa called out when she saw the glint of her gold dress.

"Ah, there you are," Margie said, walking towards them. Once she noticed the intimacy of their situation, she came to halt and looked apologetic. "I am so sorry to interrupt! It's just that my aunt will be leaving soon and she wanted to meet you and have a talk with you about your marketing firm, Sansa. I had shown her some of the campaigns you guys have done and she's more than interested in using you guys for her fashion line!"

"Well that was sweet of you," Sansa smiled, rising to her feet with Jon following suit. "Of course, I'll come meet her."

The three of them walked back up to the house, Sansa and Jon never letting go of one another's hand until they got inside.

"I'm going to go find Sam, I basically ditched him just a few minutes after I even arrived," Jon said guiltily.

"I'll find you later?" Sansa suggested.

"Please," Jon responded. His eyes flickered down to her mouth for a moment. They finally broke the grasp they had on their hands and he went off to find Sam. The loss of his touch made a small panic arise within Sansa that she immediately tried to squash down._ He's not going to disappear. He'll still be here_, she told herself.

"Okay. When we get a chance, we must discuss whatever is happening between you and that handsome man. There is something intense going on there!" Margie exclaimed as Sansa watched Jon weave his way through the crowds. "I really am sorry I interrupted you guys out there."

"No need to apologize, Margie! I'll catch up with him later."

"A part of me was worried at first. I didn't really quite know how to gauge your reaction after Sam introduced him to us. And then you guys disappeared for a while and I wanted to make sure you weren't kidnapped or murdered or something," Margie rambled, still looking sorry.

Sansa laughed. "No, it was just such a huge shock to see him here, it completely stunned me."

"Okay, good. Now, let's meet Auntie Alerie!"

During a rather long talk with Alerie Hightower, Sansa could see Sam lead Jon back into the hallway of portraits and eventually come back out to the bar after some time. Once Alerie finally made her exit, Sansa and Margie joined a few of Margie's cousins on the dance floor. The DJ had been making his way through the music of each decade that Alan and Samantha Tarly had been married. He was currently on their fourth decade - the 90′s. A Spice Girls song came on and Margie had excitedly pulled Sansa into the mix of female cousins, all of them sing-shouting the lyrics with glee. A few times, Sansa could spot Jon at the bar through the excitedly bobbing heads, his eyes always on her and his smile big.

"Let's go join my brother and that mysterious Jon," Margie suggested with a sly smile as they caught their breath after dancing to a few songs.

"Well, that looked like fun," Sam chuckled as the girls met them.

"It quite was! And don't you worry, I'll be getting you out on that floor tonight, Sam," Margie said with a threatening smile.

After ordering a couple of cocktails, Margie and Sam regaled Sansa and Jon with family stories about interesting relatives. Sam seemed to know quite a lot of his family's history. Sansa and Jon were able to tease out a few more stories about Margaery and Dickon. Whatever information they could get about their old friends, they soaked in, whether it was tales of Margaery's famous fundraisers or Dickon's rise up the ranks in the military. As they listened to the story of how their daughter Sansa had been the first girl in the Tarly/Tyrell families to continue on to a higher education, the DJ requested everyone come to the dance floor to watch the celebrated couple dance to their old wedding song. As Margie and Sam made their way to join the rest of their family, Sansa and Jon stood near the back of the crowd and watched the beautiful older couple sway on the dance floor like they were still in their twenties. As Sansa gazed at the romance personified in front of them, she felt Jon's hand brush up against hers, down at her side. The touch was fleeting and it made her realize she already missed his touch and the spark it always brought, even though he had just been holding her hand earlier out in the garden. But, before she could miss it for very long, his hand was back and taking a hold of her own. His thumb drew lazy circles on the back of her hand. _How was I even able to accept the fact that I would never feel him again?_ she thought.

After the dance, Margie and then her dad gave cute toasts to the couple. Margie's grandfather's toast to his wife, however, brought tears to their guests' eyes. He talked of the spark he had always felt for her, of the longing while they were apart, of fate and forever. After everyone raised their glasses and drank to the couple, Sansa turned back to Jon and found his eyes a bit misty like her own.

"Should we maybe continue our talk elsewhere?" Jon asked, his voice hopeful and shy.

"Definitely," Sansa smiled. Without dropping his hand, she pulled him along as she weaved through party guests to get to the young Tarlys.

"Ah, is it time to say goodbye?" Margie asked, an impish smile on her lips, when Sansa and Jon reached them.

"Afraid so. We were just going to order an uber. We wanted to catch you before you got pulled away again," Sansa replied, trying to ignore Margie's knowing smile.

"Nonsense! My driver can take you wherever you need to go," Margie said firmly as she pulled her phone from her clutch and texted on it. "He'll be out front in just a few moments."

"Thanks, Margie," Sansa smiled. As Jon said his goodbyes to Sam, Sansa pulled the blond into a hug. "Thank you so much for inviting me tonight. You have no idea what this night has meant to me," she whispered in Margie's ear.

"No, but I definitely hope you'll fill me in on it later," Margie replied with a little laugh. "Now. Go have fun with your mystery man!"

"Sam, it was lovely meeting you," Sansa said, turning to Margie's brother and pulling him into a hug, a hug he seemed to be a little surprised by. _I guess it would be weird if I thanked him for inviting Jon to the party as well_, Sansa thought with a smile.

"Jon, I imagine I'll be seeing more of you in the future," Margie stated, her knowing smile back on her face. The opening notes of Lean On Me started to play and Margie grabbed her brother's arm. "And now, I must insist that Sam dance with his dear sister." Before Sam could protest, he was being dragged out to the dance floor by a determined Margie.

Sansa took a moment to smile at the siblings; the strongly confident Margie led the very shy Sam in the dance. From what she learned of the two, Margie was ever protective of him and Sam was always supportive of her. Sansa just knew Margaery and Dickon would be proud of these two descendants.

"Shall we?" Jon suggested. Sansa turned back to him and matched his smile. She took his hand and they walked out to find the black SUV pulling up. The driver got out and opened the back door. Jon helped Sansa in, making sure the hem of the flowing emerald dress was tucked neatly away as he closed the door. Before he came to the other side of the car to hop in, he had a quick word with the driver, giving him their destination. Once in the car next to her, he resumed holding her hand, this time covering it with his other hand has well. Neither of them wanting to go in depth on their secret history in front of the driver, the ride was rather quiet. It was a comfortable silence, Sansa just reveling in Jon's unexpected presence. She didn't know where Jon asked the driver to take them but she had a pretty strong hunch and as they were nearing the place, Jon's furrowed brow as he looked down at her favorite strappy high heels nearly confirmed it for her.

"I was hoping you wouldn't mind a little walk tonight. But I just realized you'd be pretty uncomfortable in those," he said quietly.

"I can walk all day and night in these babies, don't worry about me," Sansa smiled. Soon enough, the car came to a stop at the southeast corner of the park, just as she had thought it would, and her smile grew.

After thanking the driver, Jon took off his suit jacket and placed it around Sansa's shoulders and she gave him a smile of gratitude as she slipped her arms into the sleeves. He held out his arm as he did countless times in 1884 and she looped her own through his. They began to walk through the park's entrance, soon coming upon the statue of Aegon the Conqueror.

"I haven't been here since I came back," Jon said, cutting through the quiet night.

"You haven't come back to the park at all?" Sansa asked, no longer distracted by the mental image of Jon waiting at the statue with Dickon, not when she had the real thing on her arm as they passed it.

"I knew it would hurt too much," he responded quietly. "So I did my best to stay away from here. Or anywhere, really, that would take my mind back to 1884. It's been a little difficult. Had to go way out of my way on several occasions to not pass by familiar places."

"You didn't want to remember any of it?" Sansa said, trying to hide the hurt. _He didn't want to remember me or any of our time together?_

"It hurt too much to think about that time. You had died - or at least that's what we all thought. It was hard to move on after that news. I couldn't wait to get back home, to continue my life in hopes that being back in my own time would help ease the pain of losing you. And once I finally did come home, I found it didn't make the pain any easier to get rid of. So I didn't allow myself to go anywhere I had gone with you, thinking that would help. It didn't," Jon said with a sad little smile.

"I'm so sorry, Jon. I'm so sorry you had to believe that story. I didn't want any of you to think I had died but Melisandre explained it was for the best. It was the only way to explain my disappearance without any of you trying to come find me in Winterfell only to find out I didn't really exist."

"Makes sense. I would have come searching for you. Margaery as well," Jon said, letting out a quiet laugh that faded quickly. "She took the news hard. As did Dickon. He knew there was no way he'd be with Margaery without your help. But Margaery was basically inconsolable for some time. Gilly started visiting her more often and they grieved together. Dickon did his best to console her and me at the same time. Margaery insisted Dickon bring me around for dinner at the manor more. I couldn't quite get the strength up to go back there so she showed up at the recruitment center to have a talk with me and we shared our grief. They were really good people, weren't they?"

"The best," Sansa replied, wiping a tear from her eye.

"I just don't understand why Melisandre would not tell either one of us about the other. Why were we kept in the dark? Why couldn't she have told me about who you were and that you weren't actually dead?"

"Who knows. Her Lord of Light sure works in mysterious ways. My only guess is that maybe we wouldn't have done our jobs successfully or something. I mean, you had to help me change for the better, so I guess I couldn't know about who you were. But it sure would have been nice to know when I was sent back home. She saw how torn up I was about leaving."

"Ah yes, 'we don't question the Lord of Light'. She told me that once when I asked her if her god was sure Dickon should marry Margaery."

"Before I left there, I asked her if I could stay," Sansa said, her voice suddenly soft and quiet. "I asked if I could just live out my life there, in 1884, with you and everyone. And then, when I got old, come back here and be young again, live out my years in my own time. Melisandre explained why that couldn't be, that while my body would go back to being young, my mind would stay old and continue getting very old as my body aged normally. She told me it would take it's toll on me. And I didn't question her or her god. I accepted it and came home. But, after being back here for a little bit, I regretted leaving. I decided I was willing to accept the consequences and I was going to beg her to be sent back. I went to the building and it was empty, she wasn't there. For a week, I went back there, three times a day, every day. She never showed. A part of me thought all of it was just in my head. At the end of the week, I willed myself to stop."

"You were willing to basically lose your mind to go back?" Jon asked quietly, his voice tinted with awe.

"It wasn't even a question in my mind." Sansa smiled wistfully. "I tried to find you."

"Find me?"

"When I got back, I kept researching archives, trying to find anything about you and your life after 1884. I desperately needed to know what happened to you. I found a bunch of stuff about Margaery and Dickon. But nothing about you. I didn't think it was all that strange since I couldn't find anything about Gilly either. And then, tonight, I saw the picture of Margaery and Dickon's wedding party, and Gilly was in it. I had so hoped to at least see you in that picture. I had information on everyone, whether it was a lot of info or just a picture. But still nothing of you. Until you showed up in that hallway. I couldn't find anything about you because you were a ghost then, like I was."

Jon smiled at the thought. "I guess we were like ghosts. Helpful ones, at least."

"How did you become friends with Sam? I'm guessing you did a bit of your own research as well?"

"For months I refused to look anyone up. Then one night, in August, I suddenly felt the absolute need to find out how everyone fared after I left."

"Do you remember the date?" Sansa asked, quite sure she already knew.

"August 2nd," Jon replied, a crooked smile crawling onto his lips. "The day you traveled."

"So Melisandre and the Lord of Light didn't tell us about each other. But you did get the sudden feeling to get reconnected with the past, in a way, on the exact night that I traveled. Maybe the Lord of Light gave you that feeling to put you onto the path of finding me here, in our time?"

"Maybe," Jon replied, his arm pulling Sansa closer against him. "So yeah, that night I was just watching a movie on my couch when I got that feeling. It was similar to that sensation of being pulled by a rope to find Melisandre. I tried to ignore it at first but I found that the feeling wouldn't go away until I opened my laptop and started searching. I would have searched for you first but I believed you had died and in no way did I want to find the article of your ship sinking again. I read it once, when Dickon broke the news to me and I did not want to relive that pain. So I searched for Dickon. I didn't find a whole lot about him so I searched for Margaery. I only found a little for her under her maiden name. But then I put in her married name and found Margie Tarly."

"Did their resemblance hit you like a ton of bricks as well?"

"Hell yeah. It sounds creepy, but I stalked her Instagram a bit, trying to find any mention of her parents and I was going to try to continue my research through them. But then I found the picture she posted of her and Sam on his birthday. So I began looking through his stuff. Again, this is really stalkerish but I felt like I really had to meet him - through his posts, I learned he frequents this small, kinda hipster coffee shop near my apartment. So I started to go there on a normal basis in hopes of running into him. Sam goes to that place so often that it only took two days for me to see him there. I struck up a conversation with him that day and then we kept 'running into each other' there the rest of the week. It was so strange but so awesome to be talking to a descendant of Dickon's. Sam's a pretty cool guy. He's shy and quiet but funny and super smart. We hit it off and went out for drinks a couple times. I made it seem like I was really into the city's history and he told me some old family stories from back in the day. Eventually, he invited me to the anniversary party so I could see the historic manor."

"It went about the same for me. I got back to this time, spent the weekend with my family while they were in town, and then I started my research the following weekend. I couldn't find anything about you, and now that I think about it, I think I kept using search terms pertaining to your 1884 life. But I'm pretty sure I searched for just plain old 'Jon Snow' and only found random ass people. Turns out your name is pretty common. I'm still surprised I didn't stumble upon any social media for you though."

"That's because I don't have any," Jon said with an apologetic smile.

"Yes, you couldn't make it easy on me, I guess," Sansa laughed. "So then I moved on to the Tarlys and found Margie. I went to the library and searched through the old microfilms of the newspaper. I found articles about their engagement, wedding, fundraisers and the birth announcements for their children Samwell and Sansa."

"Sam had talked about his namesake and mentioned that he had a sister named Sansa. It was really hard for me to hold it together in that moment. It's amazing that they named their daughter after you," Jon said, looking over at her.

"I downright bawled in the middle of the library when I read that. I probably should have been embarrassed but I didn't care, that was the sweetest thing," Sansa said with a bittersweet smile. "That next week, an opportunity appeared at work where I suggested we work with her. I was sent to meet her and, like you and Sam, we hit it off. We hung out more and I introduced her to my brother Robb - I'm pretty sure something is going to happen with that. It just felt like hanging out with Margaery all over again and I loved it. Margie's great too, in her own right. Kind and generous despite her popularity. She invited me to the party to see the manor and meet her family. She even picked out and lent me this very expensive dress."

"Well, she does have a good eye. You look beautiful, Sansa."

Jon's smile was shy when Sansa turned to smile at him. "Thank you, Jon." She turned her face back to their path, now seeing their destination come into view.

"When I got to the party, Sam was introducing me to his parents and I saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look at where it had disappeared into a hallway and it felt like it was you - a beautiful ghost, like my mind was imagining you in the last place we were with each other. I was ready to bolt out of there, the thought of being haunted by visions of you all night nearly broke my heart all over again. Before I could offer Sam my apologies and an excuse to leave, he told me I had to meet his grandparents and then his sister. Before I knew it, I was being introduced to them and after small talk that I can't even remember because all I could think of was you, we were walking towards the hallway. And then there you were, staring at a picture at the other end of the hall. Margie was there but my mind kept telling itself that you were still just a vision in my head, an effect of being in a place that you had visited so often and the last place I saw you. I was telling myself that you weren't there, that Sam's sister was standing there alone. Again, I wanted to bolt out of there and just cry myself to sleep. But that pulling sensation was back, tugging me to follow Sam down the hall. I still believed you were a vision even when we came to a stop, especially when Margie turned to us but you kept looking at the picture. But then you did turn. And you said my name. I didn't truly believe you were really there until Margie introduced you."

"Well, while you thought I was a ghost, I thought you had been sent here to help someone and then you would be sent back to your own time of 1884. I thought I was going to lose you all over again. But then you said that this is where you're from, where you belong, and it was like something heavy had lifted off of me."

"I'm not going anywhere," Jon said as they came to a stop in front of the Florian and Jonquil statue. He took a glance at the statue and turned to Sansa, his smile handsomely crooked as he pulled her in close to his body. "I'm still you're Florian - if you'll have me."

Jon barely finished his sentence when Sansa's lips crashed into his. Throughout the night, she had imagined their reunited kiss would be graceful, their faces inching towards each other for their lips to meet, almost like slow motion. But that flew out the window; Sansa couldn't hold back anymore and, with his words, she threw caution to the wind. His lips - the lips she had thought she'd never taste again - were slow and deliberate against hers, slowing her needy kiss to a an unhurried and sensuous rate. Sansa felt as if she was melting in his arms. His hands encompassed her waist under his jacket, his fingers grazing her skin where the dress cut very low on her back. The sparks from his touch was now an all out firework show finale. Her hands wound into his dark hair, her nails grazing along his scalp, eliciting a quiet moan from Jon's throat. The sound made Sansa release his lips and hers traveled down his jawline, back across his neck and down his throat.

"Sansa." Jon's voice was a guttural whisper.

"Let's go. My apartment," Sansa whispered between the kisses and licks she placed on his neck.

"Hold on." Jon's hands gripped her waist firmly and it seemed like he had to use all his mental strength to reluctantly pry her from his body. "I want to do this right," he said, a sheepish smile on his lips as he looked into her eyes.

"Do this right?" Sansa repeated, already missing the salty taste of his skin. _Pull yourself together, girl_.

"Yeah. Neither of us are going to be disappearing this time, there's no reason for us to rush. I want to take this slow, do it the right way."

"Soooo - no sex?" Sansa asked, one of her eyebrows hitched up in question.

Jon laughed and then bit his lip. It made Sansa want to dive her lips right back in. "I mean, eventually there'll be sex. A lot of it," he smiled, his fingertips suddenly ghosting down Sansa's naked spine until he reached where her dress covered her rear, making her shiver in anticipation. "But there will be dates first."

"Dates. Plural?"

"A few. Maybe more." His smile was teasing.

"So let me get this straight. You were perfectly fine with bedding me in 1884 - when it would generally be frowned upon. But now - _now_ \- you want to be old fashioned and do things the right way. In our modern age, you want to take thinks slow?" Sansa asked, her smile as crooked as her one cocked eyebrow.

"That was another lifetime. One where we both felt rushed. Now we're in our own and neither of us is disappearing. I want to do things right with you. I want this to be forever."

"You know, it's not quite 'taking it slow' when the guy talks about 'forever' before the date," Sansa cut in with her own teasing smile.

"Well, that's what I want. I want forever with you. And I want us to take our time and get to know the 'real' versions of ourselves." His lips drew closer and he gave her an innocent kiss on her lips, like the ones he would give when they were walking out in the 19th century public. But then his lips lowered and kissed her jawline. "And besides," his lips were lower again on her neck, "it'll only be a few dates," his lips found that sensitive spot just below her ear that makes her moan, "I promise."

Jon pulled way from her, his eyes matched his smile, playfully devilish. But then he dropped his hands from her waist and took a step back. His right hand lifted between them, held out for her to shake it.

"So - Hi! I'm Jon Snow."

"We're starting from the beginning?" Sansa asked incredulously. She received a raised eyebrow from Jon and she caved in. "Sansa Stark," she smiled, shaking his hand.

"I believe I heard you work in marketing?"

"I do. Recently started at Evenfall Marketing." Sansa suddenly realized she had no idea what Jon did in this modern day. _Maybe we really do need to slow down, get to know each other_, she begrudgingly thought. "And what is it that you do, Jon?"

"I'm an architect. I design houses for Holdfast Custom Homes," Jon replied, holding out his arm for Sansa to loop hers through and they began their walk back to the entrance.

"Hmmm. I really expected you to be in the military. It just seemed to fit you so well," Sansa remarked.

"Well, maybe because I actually used to be in the military. Back when I was straight out of high school, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do and I figured the added structure the army would give could keep me on my toes. I actually really was stationed at Fort Black. I liked it, but after my four years were up, I was ready to move on. I found I had an interest in architecture so I took that route in college."

"So are you actually from Molestown?"

"Yup, that was the truth. And you're really from Winterfell?"

"Born and raised," Sansa smiled.

After talk of family, college years, and their own moves to the big city, they finally reached the street.

"Should I order an uber to get you off of those heels?" Jon asked, looking down at her feet sympathetically.

"No. I told you I can walk all day and night in these. And I'm not ready for this miraculous night to end so fast. Walk me to my apartment?"

"Gladly," Jon smiled.

"Did you know Street of Flour Bakery still exits?" Sansa asked excitedly as they crossed the street.

"I actually didn't. Even after I got the urge to research and befriended Sam, I still stayed away from any place that reminded me of you. Did they exist here before you traveled or did you save the business with your constant patronage?" Jon teased.

"I'm not sure, I didn't know the place before I arrived in 1884."

"I'd like to think you kept them in business."

"So do I," Sansa smiled proudly.

"How about we stop by there on our first date? How does tomorrow sound?"

"Perfect."

Once they reached the lobby doors of her apartment building, Sansa brought them to a halt. "This is me," she said, pointing up.

"Here, save your number in my phone," Jon said, handing her his cell. She did as she was told and handed it back. "Until tomorrow then?" he asked, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

"Unless you want to just come up now?" Sansa tested, a suggestive smile on her lips. She pressed her body flush against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Jon let out a wanting groan as he slid his arms around her waist. "You're going to make this whole 'doing this the right way' thing very difficult, aren't you?"

"Very," Sansa whispered, biting her lip.

Jon only smiled and shook his head before leaning in to bring his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle and loving. And, as much as she wanted to bring their kiss to hotter levels, she controlled her urges and kissed him back sweetly.

"I know we're supposed to be taking it slow," Sansa started quietly, pulling her face away from his, "but I just have to tell you that I love you, Jon. I didn't think I'd ever get to tell you that again; but now you're here, with me, and I can't let it wait."

Jon smiled. He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, another on the tip of her nose. "I love you, Sansa." His next kiss landed back on her lips. It was deep and Sansa could feel the warmth emanating from it down into her very bones. When he released her lips, she let out a tiny gasp. "Goodnight, love. Sleep well."

"Tomorrow?" Sansa asked. The fear of losing him again started to creep back up inside of her.

"Tomorrow." Jon's voice was firm and sure, just the right assurance Sansa needed to lose that fear.

Shrugging out of the suit jacket, she handed it back to Jon. "Text me when you get home," she requested. With one last kiss, Sansa turned and walked into the lobby and straight back to the elevators. Once the elevator opened and she got in, she turned back around to face the lobby doors. Jon still stood there, on the other side of the glass, gazing at her with his handsome smile. As the elevator doors began to close, she lifted her hand in a wave and he did the same.

Once the doors were shut and Sansa felt the rise towards her floor, she closed her eyes and tilted her head up.

"Thank you," she whispered. She wasn't sure who she was saying it to. Maybe the Lord of Light. Maybe Melisandre. Maybe just in general to the universe at large. She didn't care, she just knew she had to thank who or whatever brought her and Jon back together again.

Twenty minutes later, her phone vibrated and she opened up the new text.

_"Goodnight, my Jonquil."_


	12. one dream, one life, one lover

Chapter 12: one dream, one life, one lover

_(Chapter title taken from Lana Del Rey's Venice Bitch)_

* * *

_**One Year Later...**_

Sansa stood in front of her bathroom mirror, getting ready for her day. It had been just about a year since her past miraculously became her future. As she wound sections of her hair around a curling wand, Sansa's mind absentmindedly wandered to her and Jon's "first" few dates.

There was the visit to her favorite little bakery. And the night Jon took her to the shore, by the sea wall, for dinner. The restaurant had a different name and obviously had undergone at least a few renovations through the years, but it was still in the same spot as The Wall, their very first one-on-one date location. Sansa recalled how, back then in their past, she sometimes struggled with things to tell him about herself, wary of giving herself away while also not having too much to really talk about in regards to her 1884 life. But, with their second date at that restaurant, there was no problem. Conversation flowed. Sansa was finally able to share with Jon everything that he wanted to know about her and he was able to do the same. Their third date consisted of a picnic at their spot in the park; it was the first time Jon had been there since he traveled back. He was glad to find it relatively unchanged, with the exception of trees having grown older and larger. The plan was to just have lunch, but the hours ticked on and they lazed about on their blanket, talking more about their lives and their dreams for their futures. A blissful feeling filled Sansa as she imagined their future dreams entwining together perfectly. The warm and dreamy look on Jon's face told her he just might be thinking the same. Only when the sun set did they reluctantly pack up their picnic setup and make their way out of the park, hand in hand. During the walk back, whenever they had to wait for a light to change, Jon's lips would sometimes find hers or her forehead, cheek, temple, tip of her nose, or shoulder. Other times, he would lift her hand to his lips, kissing it like he did so many times in their past. Those gentle (but at the same time, sensual) hand kisses were the ones to always make her blush.

When they reached her apartment, Sansa invited Jon up, just as she did on their first and second dates. Both times, he reluctantly declined, obviously wanting to but still trying to obey his own rule of trying to do it the "right way" and take things slow to really get to know one another. So, when Sansa asked again at the end of this third date, she expected the same decision from him and she was ready to plead her case.

"You know, we've now technically been on 'a few' dates. And I'm pretty sure we've learned a hell of a lot about each other. You should come up," Sansa rambled as she turned to face him in front of her lobby doors.

"I'd love to," Jon replied. His smile seemed carnal, matching the look he gave her.

His look slightly flustered Sansa. "You will? That easy, I didn't have to try to talk you into it?"

"I was ready to beg if you weren't going to invite me up tonight," Jon said, his hands encircling her waist and bringing her close against him. "We've waited long enough." His lips brushed against her ear.

In an instant, Sansa grabbed his hand and nearly pulled him into the lobby and to the elevator. The doors opened for them and they got in, waiting the few moments for the doors to close again. Sansa was prepared to attack his lips and body as soon as they closed. But, at the last second, a cute elderly couple Sansa recognized from down her hall jumped on. After sharing a smile with them, the elevator began to rise. The ride seemed to take much longer than usual as the yearning between her and Jon grew ever stronger. As they stood in the back corner, somewhat behind the other couple, Jon's fingers found the skin of Sansa's thigh, grazing them back and forth just under the hemline of her short sundress. The touch and anticipation made Sansa tremble. When the doors finally opened up to their floor, it took everything in her power to not be rude and to let the couple out first and follow their slower pace down the hall. The couple continued on down the hall as Sansa stopped Jon in front of her door, jamming the key in the lock and letting them in. As soon as the door was closed, Jon's hands pulled her closer, his lips fully on hers before he kissed his way down her long neck. Before she could lose her mind in their euphoria, Sansa stumbled them down the hallway, into her room, and onto her bed. Clothes were shed rather quickly. But as soon as he got her completely naked, Jon suddenly stilled, leaning over her and propped up on his elbow. His eyes danced across her face, lovingly taking her in as if he still couldn't believe his luck of finding her again. His look said many things, even as his mouth opened to try to tell her but seemed incapable of expressing them all with words. Sansa knew his look and knew she felt what he felt.

"I know," she whispered, her hand coming up to his cheek. "I love you, Jon,"

Jon let out a breath and a corner of his lips lifted into his crooked smile. "And I love you." His lips covered hers in a sweet kiss, full of love.

And finally, as the moonlight started to make its ascent over the tall buildings and shone down on them through the windows, they made love - for the first time in _this_ lifetime.

Sansa smiled warmly at the memory as she finished curling the last wave in her hair. She walked into her bedroom - _their_ bedroom now since he moved in four months ago - and looked down at the outfit she had neatly laid out on the bed for herself, giving it a nod of approval. She slipped on the summery dress - thin and flowy, perfect for the awful end-of-summer humidity. After slipping on her shoes, she checked her reflection, liked what she saw, and walked out.

Despite the humidity, it was a beautiful late morning. Sansa happily strode down the street towards the hotel her family was staying in. Since the Starks had planned to come down to visit Sansa and Robb and their significant others, and because Jon's mom Lyanna had also planned for a vacation in the city, Jon and Sansa arranged for the vacations to happen on the same week, so that the families could meet each other. Jon had left early that morning to pick Lyanna up at the airport and help her settle into her hotel. They were all to meet up at their special picnic spot in the park for lunch.

It was interesting, to say the least, when Sansa and Jon had the discussion to try to figure out their backstory to tell their families and friends. The first thought was to say they had met in the city and began dating. Easy enough. Except that wouldn't cover Margie and Sam. There was no hiding that Sansa and Jon obviously knew each other and that they definitely had some sort of history when they reunited at the Tarly party. So, that had to be factored in. Ultimately, they decided that they had met at Wintertown University, while Sansa was a student and when Jon came down to visit a friend who went there. It would have been Sansa's third year there and it would be after Jon got out of the military but before he attended Storm's End University (known for their amazing architecture program). They hit it off quickly and felt a strong connection. But due to Jon's upcoming move down to Storm's End, they didn't take it any further than Jon's short visit to Wintertown. Then they were surprisingly reunited at the Tarly's party, instantly feeling that old connection again. With their stories straight, Sansa got back to Margie, who had peppered her with a few calls and texts, dying to know all the details between her and her mystery man. Then she facetimed her mom, who, of course, had to bring her dad into the conversation so she could tell him as well. Arya happened to be home at the time so she heard it too; as soon as she hung up with her parents, she began to receive a facetime from Arya as well.

"So is this the dead guy you were in love with?" Arya asked, starting the conversation before her sister could even get a word out.

Sansa immediately became flustered, sputtering out no's and trying to explain that the talk they had about loving a dead person really wasn't about her. Arya gave her a suspicious little squint of her eyes before it was suddenly erased and she was asking questions about Jon.

Robb wanted to meet Jon right away, insisting he needed to give the older-brother-seal-of-approval. Sansa booked a reservation for the three of them at Robb's favorite restaurant. As much as Robb tried to appear stern at first, it quickly melted away as he and Jon got along as if they'd been best friends since they were kids. It also didn't hurt when Sansa informed Robb that Margie would be joining them for drinks after their dinner.

Arya came down for another visit in the fall. By the end of the weekend, it was like she was Jon's kid sister. Sansa would even jokingly claim that Arya liked Jon more than her, to which Arya would laugh and would pretend to agree.

After a few months, there was a time when Catelyn worried about how fast things were moving between her daughter and Jon. There were plenty a call and facetimes where she'd suggest to Sansa that she take things slower. However, the motherly fretting ended when Sansa brought Jon home with her to Winterfell for Christmas to meet her parents and little brothers. Catelyn could finally see, in person, the love that Sansa and Jon shared and then she understood. While Ned excitedly took Jon around their Winterfell estate to check out the original craftsman style architecture, Catelyn admitted to Sansa that she had taken a liking to the boy.

If Lyanna Snow had any doubts, Sansa wouldn't have known it. She greeted her son's girlfriend with kind, warm, open arms when they traveled up to Molestown for Lyanna's 50th birthday party.

Sansa reached her family's hotel, the same hotel she had barged into to apologize to them the night she came back. As she passed by the hotel's restaurant, she smiled to herself and shook her head at the memory of storming out of there in embarrassment of her family. _Well, maybe I should be grateful for being a brat back then and making that scene, it led me to 1884. It led me to Jon_, she thought as she entered the elevator.

Sansa went door to door to collect her family members. First her parents, then Bran and Rickon, and finally Arya. Arya and her boyfriend, Gendry, to be precise. It was her longest relationship yet and sometimes Sansa would tease her in girly ways to annoy her, a little payback for their childhood.

"Everyone ready?" Sansa asked in the hallway once everyone had gathered. She received a chorus of confirmations and they made their way out.

"Are you sure we don't need to bring anything? We could pick up some food on the walk there?" Catelyn asked, unable to hide her need to help.

"Jon said he would handle it all. Trust me, Mom, he's good at this," Sansa smiled.

Once Sansa led them to their picnic spot, they found Jon and Lyanna already there; Robb as well, apparently having helped Jon carry things and assisting with the set up. Blankets were laid out, making a large enough surface for the two Snows and the plethora of Starks to fit on. Food was carefully laid out in the middle on trays and wooden serving boards. There was a charcuterie platter with different cheeses, meats, crackers, spread, fruits, and nuts. There was a pile of different finger sandwiches. Potato salad, pasta salad, regular leafy salad. Savory little hand-sized meat pies from the restaurant she loves down the street from their apartment. Mini fruit tarts, brownies, cookies. And of course, a heap of the famous lemon cakes.

"Oh my goodness. You were right, he didn't need my help at all," Catelyn whispered as they came upon the spot. Sansa just smiled proudly at her man.

After introductions between Lyanna and the Starks were done, they settled down and loaded up their plates.

"Where's Margie?" Sansa asked Robb, expecting to see her friend (and now her brother's girlfriend) there.

"She couldn't get out of a meeting with her publicist, but she'll be here as soon as that's done," Robb answered.

"I can't wait to meet her," Rickon suggestively said, wiggling his eyebrows and smoothing out his hair.

"Stay away from my girlfriend, Rickon," Robb jokingly warned.

As the picnic wore on, Sansa snuggled into Jon's side as they watched their mothers have a full on gabfest.

"Thank you so much, my love. This was perfect," she quietly sighed.

"Not as perfect as you," Jon whispered back. Sansa smiled and playfully nudged him with her shoulder. He laughed and wrapped his arm around her, holding her tight and kissing her forehead.

After a while, Arya pulled Sansa away, and they went down closer to the edge of the pond.

"I think I love him," Arya whispered.

Sansa let out a giggle at Arya's annoyed tone. She definitely didn't seem to be a fan of how "girly" this whole falling in love thing was and this conversation about it.

"You _think_?" Sansa asked.

"Fine. I _know_."

"Good. I love him and I love him for you. You're able to be yourself around him. And he loves you despite your aversion to love and relationships," Sansa teased and looked down at her sister.

It was then that Arya's smile grew as she looked past Sansa. She then gave a quick nod and bounded back to the family at the blankets. Sansa's brows furrowed in confusion and she turned around to see what her sister had been looking at.

She found Jon. And she found his warm, gray eyes with his skin crinkling at the corners of them. And she found his dashing, crooked smile. Then, she found him slowly getting down on one knee.

The world around her grew silent and disappeared. Her mouth opened slightly and let out a gasp as she instinctively covered her rapidly beating heart with her hand. Jon took her other hand in his.

"Sansa, now and forever, you are the love of my life. There was a time when neither of us thought we would find each other again, that we would never again find a love like we had. But then, something brought us back together. And I don't ever want to lose you and what we have ever again. Be my once in a lifetime," Jon said softly then cracked a goofy grin with a small chuckle, "or _two_ lifetimes." His hand held hers tighter and his eyes never strayed from hers as his other hand pulled a gorgeous diamond ring from his pocket. "Sansa, will you marry me?"

"Yes, Jon. Yes!" Sansa couldn't get the words out any faster as the happy tears that had been crowding in her eyes finally fell down her cheeks. Jon slid the ring onto her finger and Sansa pulled him back up so she could wrap her arms around his neck and smother him in her kisses. "I love you, Jon Snow."

There was cheering coming from their family, it started out faint as the rest of the world came back to life around the two of them but then it became a boisterous glee from their loved ones, along with some clapping and shouts of congratulations from nearby spectators. In the middle of the familial cheering, Sansa could just make out Arya's confused voice. "Did he just say 'two lifetimes'?" It made Sansa laugh as she was mid-kiss with Jon.

Once their family had decided the two lovebirds had enough of a moment to bask in their engagement alone, they all rushed over to the couple to shower them with hugs and love. Catelyn was downright bawling as she held Sansa close and swayed with her before she moved on to crush Jon in a hug. As Ned held his eldest daughter in a long embrace, Sansa was already imaging him walking her down the aisle and she got misty eyed again.

"Did you guys all know?" she asked her dad.

"Of course we did. Jon flew up and did the whole old-fashioned asking for your hand in marriage thing. Then he and your mother went ring shopping. He wanted to get your ring just right. He told Bran and Rickon at dinner that night. And he met up with Arya because he thought she'd kill him if he didn't get her permission to marry you as well. And I believe he also "asked" Robb when he came back down to King's Landing."

As Sansa smiled at the thought of Jon jumping through the many family hoops for her, there came a bright and cheery yell. Sansa turned in the direction of the familiar voice and found Margie running over while her brother Sam was already with their group.

"We got it! We got it and it's so damn beautiful!" Margie cried. "Congratulations, love!" The blond's incoming hug nearly pushed the air out of Sansa's lungs. "I'm so incredibly happy for you, Sansa!"

"Thanks, Margie," Sansa smiled and hugged her back.

Apparently the Tarlys were in charge of capturing the engagement with pictures and videos. When the hugs and introductions were over, the siblings showed off the beautiful scene that they captured on their fancy cameras.

"So you guys knew as well?" Sansa laughed.

"Jon told us and asked us to be here with you all," Sam smiled.

"Although it was my idea to make up a meeting I couldn't get out of so that Sam and I could set up our positions to get the most opportune views to capture the amazing moment," Margie said matter-of-factly.

"Did you not see me come up near enough with the camera so I could capture the sound of his proposal on the video?" Sam laughed.

"No! Everything around us kinda just faded away!" Sansa replied.

That night, after bidding their family and friends goodnight, and after Jon and Sansa had their own private and rather intimate celebration in bed, they lay sweaty and naked, with the exception of the ring on Sansa's finger. She held her left hand up, in front of her face, so she could admire the sparkling ring for the thousandth time.

"It's just so beautiful, Jon," she whispered.

"It's vintage. Made in 1884."

"1884?" Sansa gasped. "Really?"

"According to the jeweler. I did some research, trying to find one made specifically in that year. I ended up finding out there was one at a jewelry store near Wintertown. I took your mom there to make sure it would be your style. She cried when she first looked at it, said it would be perfect for you."

"She is a bit of a crier, that one," Sansa laughed, her own tears starting to fill her eyes and she wiped them away. Jon let out a chuckle and wrapped her in his arms. Sansa sighed with contentment. "I can't wait to marry you."

* * *

**Four Years Later...**

"You got everything?" Jon asked as the line of passengers began to move to the plane's exit.

"Purse. Book. Cell phone. Yup!" Sansa answered.

As they reached the plane door, the flight attendant welcomed them to Wintertown. For their third wedding anniversary, the couple decided to take a short trip up to Winterfell as a little getaway from their busy lives in King's Landing. And from the tragedy that hit their family.

Lyanna Snow, after months of fiercely battling a spreading inoperable tumor, passed away a year into Jon and Sansa's marriage. Jon had set her up in one of the best hospitals in King's Landing and he was able to see his mother every day. But it was found too late and Lyanna's passing understandably tore Jon up. Before she left them, she talked privately with Sansa, entrusting her to look after her son and help him heal. Lyanna told her that she could see her son's connection to Sansa was something so big and intense that she would never completely understand it but that she was so happy her son could find that with Sansa. She made Jon promise that he'll go on living his life happily with his loving wife. It took some time to help Jon find his way out of the dark woods Lyanna's passing had put him in. Slowly, Sansa, with the help of the loving Starks who never ceased to make Jon feel like a part of their family, helped guide him back. The grief of losing his mother would never disappear but eventually, he fulfilled his promise to her and went on with his life happily with his adoring wife.

Through the years, Sansa had been climbing up the professional ladder at Evenfall Marketing. She was now a creative director and running many accounts and projects. Jon's work load with Holdfast had grown and he was one of their top architects, his designs some of the more popular choices with their clients.

However, they had both come to the conclusion that they wanted to complete some of their "future" dreams they had talked about five years prior. One of those dreams that they were now ready for was to start their family, which they recently had started trying for in earnest. The other dream was to move back to the North, to the large properties the northern homes had to offer. Not only did they miss the areas where they grew up and knew they wanted to eventually find their way back to it, but they wanted any future child they may have to have a yard, a swingset, and large trees for a treehouse. The North was calling them home. It would be easier for Jon, he'd be able to draft and design houses out of a home office, traveling every now and then to get a look at the properties in person, meeting with clients to get their wants and ideas. For Sansa, however, it would be a more difficult decision. She loved her job, she enjoyed working at Evenfall, and she both adored and respected her boss. She would hate to leave it all. When she broached the subject with Brienne, she was worried of disappointing her mentor. But Brienne answered with a large smile, telling her she was in luck, that she had already thought of expanding the company and creating new branches around Westeros, and that she was now deciding that a northern branch would be the first on the list so she wouldn't lose Sansa. And now, a year after that conversation, it was coming to fruition, the Wintertown branch would be ready to open soon.

So, while this little anniversary trip was to relax and visit the Starks, Sansa and Jon would also be looking at homes on the market, hoping to find the perfect one for the Snow family. And maybe they could call it a baby-making-vacation as well.

"Are we going straight to my parents' house?" Sansa asked as Jon finished loading their rented SUV with their luggage.

"One stop first then we'll head over there," Jon replied, hopping in the driver's seat.

"What stop?"

"I found a house online, looks promising. It's still in Winterfell, but on the other side of the town, closer to where Evenfall will be in Wintertown."

"Ooooh, okay!" Sansa said excitedly.

Jon drove them out of the airport and onto the freeway. Once they hit the streets, they drove through Winterfell's charming little downtown area and through blocks of cute craftsman style homes with large yards. _I can definitely see us in this neighborhood_, Sansa imagined as she stared out her window. When they finally came to a stop, it was in front of a lovely blue house.

"This is for sale? It doesn't have a for sale sign out front," Sansa asked as they exited the car.

"Over here, my love," Jon smiled, holding out his hand for her to take it. He led her across the small, quiet street to - nothing. An empty lot with a wooded area in the back. There was a for sale sign on the property though.

"Jon? Are you going to be designing our house?" Sansa asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up.

"Technically I already have," he smiled. "I've learned what you love and what you hate when I show you my designs for clients, so I went off of that. But, everything still needs your approval and I'm ready for any changes you wish to make, big or small."

Sansa let out a happy little high pitched screeched and jumped into his arms. "This is so amazing!"

"Do you like the property? It's been quite the task to find available land in the area that is big and fits our criteria."

"It looks perfect, Jon! Come on!" She pulled him with her to check out the property.

"No neighbors to the back of us, just woods and a stream," Jon explained as they walked along.

"Ah! I hear it!" Sansa exclaimed, listening for the gently babbling water. "And those trees look perfect for treehouses."

"Treehouses, plural?" Jon laughed.

"Just imagine them, connected by rope bridges!"

"Whatever you say, love," he smiled. "So the house would sit over there," he said while gesturing at the land.

"Craftsman farmhouse style?"

"Craftsman farmhouse style." Jon confirmed. "A light gray with white trim."

"Just as I like it," Sansa smiled with a nod.

"A gorgeous, handmade, custom wood front door."

"Perfect."

"A porch that will wrap around."

"Ugh, so dreamy."

"It won't be as big as your family's estate but it will definitely feel familiar to it's exterior."

"It's going to be perfect, Jon," Sansa said, pulling him into her kiss.

* * *

**_Two Years Later..._**

Sansa sat at the coffee table, photo albums and pictures laid out before her. She had been crafting a photo garland, made up of baby pictures of their adorable baby girl. Tomorrow was her first birthday party and Sansa was trying to finish up all the small touches and decorations so she wouldn't have to worry about them the next day. As she picked up an album filled with pictures of her own youth to peruse and reminisce, she spotted the gorgeous photo book Margie had gifted them. It was professionally made, in a minimalist style, and filled with their wedding pictures. Sansa smiled wistfully and decided to thumb through the gorgeous shots.

She laughed at the playfully disgruntled look Arya wore as she was getting her hair and makeup done. And there was Margie, looking like she was born to have a hair stylist and make up artist working on her. There were the beautiful shots of Sansa in her ethereal wedding gown. Then it was Jon and his groomsmen, Robb and Sam, getting ready, glasses of scotch in their hands. A shot of Ned pouring said scotch, vintage of course, into their glasses from a flask. One of Catelyn crying (obviously) as she looked at Sansa in her completed look. Then it was the ceremony, which they kept relatively small. It was held in the Tyrell Manor's rose garden. As soon as Sansa had started to plan the wedding, Margie had eagerly offered any sort of assistance she might need and she generously offered the manor for their venue. In Sansa's mind, there couldn't be a more perfect place for her and Jon to marry than the place that held a lot of memories for them. When she ran the idea by Jon, she was pleased to find he felt the same way. So, there they stood, hand in hand in front of the officiant, Robb and Sam to the side of Jon, Arya and Margie on hers, roses surrounding them all. Sansa looked at the images of Margie, smiling adoringly at her friends, Sam on the other side doing the exact same thing. Sansa had been sad Margaery and Dickon wouldn't get to be there to see their friends marry, but at least this was the next best thing. Sansa turned the page and found one of her favorite shots - the photographer had managed to capture Arya wiping a happy tear from her cheek. It was a picture Sansa never let Arya forget.

Sansa looked at the clock and set the photo book down. _They've gotta be done with bath time by now_, she thought and stood up. As she walked down the hallway towards the nursery, the house (absolutely perfectly designed by Jon) was silent. Passing the bathroom, she found it empty, the little towel hanging damp on the hook. Sansa peeked her head into their daughter's room, and the most lovely sight filled her eyes. In the rocking chair sat father and daughter, both asleep; she was perched on his lap and leaning against his chest, her favorite book open but abandoned on their laps, and both of their mouths identically slightly ajar and filled with soft exhales. _Definitely takes after her father_, Sansa smiled to herself, leaning against the door jamb. She debated on whether to wake Jon from his peaceful position. Wanting her husband to warm their bed with her made her mind up for her.

"Jon? Love?" she whispered, her fingers gently stroking his cheek.

Jon's eyes began to slightly flutter until he opened them and blinked a few times at his wife's smiling face.

"It's bed time, my love. Here, I'll take her," Sansa softly said, ever so gently prying their baby from his lap. Taking slow and deliberate steps, Sansa reached the crib and put her down. Lyanna stirred for a moment, finding her favorite sleeping position, and then falling back into her deep sleep.

She inherited Sansa's red hair but, as it grew longer, it had begun to curl like Jon's inky curls. She seemed to have Jon's gray eyes as well, except not as dark, and Sansa thought she could see a blueish hue in them that she hoped wouldn't go away.

Lyanna Margaery Snow. After they had found out they were having a girl, there was no doubt in their minds that she should be named after Jon's mother. And they didn't hesitate to give her the middle name of Margaery. It was, of course to honor her old friend Margaery and the fact she had named her daughter Sansa; but it was also for Margie, who had become her very best friend and, if she never had a friendship with Margie, she and Jon wouldn't have reunited. Sansa felt a little bad at letting Margie believe it was solely for herself. And she felt bad for the slightly jealous Arya since she couldn't tell her the real, full meaning behind the name.

But Lyanna Margaery Snow was perfect. And as much as Sansa wanted to see her grow, she felt like crying each time she realized their baby was already turning one. On rare occasions, she would even wonder what her own orb color would be. She gazed down at the perfectness until she felt Jon come up behind her and kissed her temple.

Sansa broke her gaze and turned to her husband, her eyes slightly wet with happy tears and a closed-mouthed smile on her lips. Jon smiled back at her, seeming to know the happy, contented emotions that filled her. He kissed her lips and pulled back, jerking his head towards the door.

"Good night, my everything," she whispered to Lyanna with one last glance before turning to follow Jon to their own room.

As they fell into bed together, Sansa spotted the framed note on the nightstand out of the corner of her eye. It was the note she wrote to Jon the day she left 1884, gifted to her by him on their wedding night. After Jon had found it when he woke, he folded it up and stuck it in his wallet. It was often taken out and read over and over when he wanted reminding of her. But then it stayed in the wallet, unopened after the news of her death. When it was time for Jon to leave 1884 as well, he got dressed into his own modern clothes, looked at the wallet, and couldn't bare to leave the note in the past. Taking a chance, he slipped the folded paper into his own wallet and traveled back to his time. When he arrived, he found the note had made it through the trip as well. However, he never once took it out of his wallet, couldn't actually bare to look at it. But that all changed when he found Sansa. That night, after he got home, he finally took it out and read it again. Jon kept it secret until he framed it and gave it to her after their wedding ended and they had gone up to the room they would stay in until they left for their honeymoon in the morning - the same Tyrell Manor room they had stayed in on their last night together in 1884 - the same room where she had left him that note.

_I will always love you. Forever. Through this lifetime and the next. I will never stop loving you._

* * *

_**The End.**_


End file.
